Tortured Mind
by Sparkle731
Summary: Chapter 22 posted. Story is now complete. How much could Starsky take before he went insane? Can Hutch bring a dead man back to life?
1. Chapter 1

**TORTURED MIND**

**What happened to Starsky that has him teetering on the edge of insanity?**

**Beta read by ProvencePuss**

**CHAPTER ONE**

The neon light outside his window flickered on and off, casting red and yellow shadows across the room. It was late but he wasn't tired enough to sleep. If he slept, he'd only have to wake up again the next morning and face another day. Another day where he'd have to find a reason to keep going, to go through the motions, to live with himself and the choices he had made. David Starsky's life as he knew it had ended two years, six months, 3 weeks, and four days ago. Now there was nothing left but the empty shell of the man he used to be.

As far as his family and his friends were concerned, to everyone he had known in his previous life, he was dead. Killed in a fiery inferno when his beloved Torino was run off the road and over a cliff, exploding on impact sparking a fire so intense that the body inside had been reduced to little more than ashes, not even enough left to make a positive identification through dental records. Hell, he'd even been to the cemetery and seen his own grave. Something like that leaves an impression on a man, a searing memory burned forever into his soul.

Starsky turned away from the window and rubbed the heel of his hand over the three days growth of beard on his chin. It itched like crazy but he couldn't seem to find the motivation to shave it off. What was the use? The only women he'd been with since this whole nightmare began had been prostitutes and they didn't particularly care about his personal hygiene or lack of it. He eased his weary body down on the hard single bed in the far corner of the room. He'd lost track of how long he had been here in this place. One cheap room in another rundown building looked just like the last one and the one before that. He had money in the bank, more money then he would ever need. He was good at what he did and it paid well, even if a little piece of him died with each job he completed. He had sold his soul to the devil and now he would have to pay the price.

Absentmindedly, he rubbed the old scars that decorated his chest and abdomen. Reminders of that day in the parking garage at police headquarters when he almost lost his life in a hail of bullets from a hired assassin's gun. The doctors had given him figuring he was a goner when he was wheeled into the hospital, technically more dead than alive. They flatly stated that it was a miracle that he had survived long enough to even make it to the hospital without bleeding out on the way. They shook their heads in amazement when he made it through the seven hours of surgery it took to piece his shattered insides back together. When he coded in the intensive care unit eighteen hours later, they called it a miracle when his heart inexplicably started beating again against all the odds.

Two days later, he surprised them all by coming out of his coma, awakening to a world of pain unlike anything he had ever known. For the next two months, he had fought the hardest battle of his life, the battle to survive and recover enough to walk out of the hospital under his own power. He had battled life-threatening infections, two bouts of pneumonia, four additional surgeries, a seriously damaged lung, blood poisoning, and eventually, addiction to the powerful pain medications they pumped into his system just so he could function on a daily basis.

Even after he left the hospital, he needed twenty-four hour care for several weeks. His partner and best friend, Ken Hutchinson, had taken an unpaid leave of absence from work to become his full time caretaker. For the first six weeks, Hutch had fed him, dressed him, bathed him, and even wiped his ass because he was too weak to do it for himself. Then for an additional eight months, Hutch had coaxed him, threatened him, and bullied him into completing his physical therapy sessions. In the end, he had regained most of his stamina, his strength and his muscle tone. But he only regained eighty-five percent use of his left lung, not enough to qualify him to go back to work on the streets as a cop. In a curtly worded letter thanking him for ten years of service to the Bay City Police Department, he was pensioned out on permanent disability due to injuries received in the line of duty.

He had fallen into a deep depression, shoving everyone away who tried to help him, even Hutch. Hutch became the primary target of his rage, his frustration and his violent outbursts in the weeks that followed. Maybe that was what had made him so susceptible when a ghost from his past suddenly appeared at his door. He had spent two years regretting the decision he was forced to make that day.

He often found himself thinking about Hutch, wondering where he was now and what he was doing. Sometimes that was all that got him through the day, the memories he held dear to his heart of their friendship and their partnership on the police force. But, even Hutch would turn his back on him now if he knew what Starsky had become. For the weary brunet, there was no turning back and no hope for the future. He was a man with no soul, an unwilling captive in a situation beyond his control just waiting for death to free him from the living hell his own life had become. Starsky finally let his eyes close and drifted into an uneasy sleep that was disrupted by nightmares that were filled with the nameless faces of the people he had murdered, guilty only of being targeted for elimination on the whim of a higher political power. And Starsky had been hand picked as their executioner.

The first rays of the rising sun were just peeking in through the dirty grime covered window when his screams awoke him from his nightmares. Starsky quickly shoved himself to an upright position, panting heavily as he struggled to calm his racing heart. His face and torso was covered with sweat and his eyes burned with unshed tears. He often wondered if this was how it felt to lose your mind because he knew that he was slowly losing his. He stumbled to his feet and made his way to the tiny cubicle that passed as a bathroom. Stripping off his faded, threadbare jeans and equally faded tee shirt, he reached into the shower stall and turned on the shower, adjusting the spray until it was hot enough to burn his skin.

Stepping into the shower stall, he hissed as the hot water hit his skin, turning his normally olive toned skin red. Lowering his head so the water ran over his tangled mass of dark curls, he stood there and let the water burn away the remnants of his nightmares. Grabbing the washcloth hanging over the shower rod he scrubbed at his body furiously in a futile attempt to feel clean again.

Finally, he stepped out of the shower and walked back into the other room, shaking his head to dispense some of the water that still clung to his curls. Opening the closet, he pulled out a pair of jeans with holes in the knees and a long sleeved light blue shirt with a couple of buttons missing. His choice of attire helped him to blend into the neighborhood without being noticed, even though he was one of the few Caucasians in the city.

Sitting down on the edge of the bed, he pulled on his old Adidas, one of the few reminders of his old life besides his faded jeans that hung loosely on his slender frame. He'd lost a lot of weight in the past two years as his appetite decreased until he was barely eating enough to stay alive. Maybe eventually he'd manage to kill himself, one way or the other. Lifting the pillow on his bed, he took out the Beretta he kept hidden there. Checking the clip to make sure it was fully loaded, and double-checking to make sure the safety was on, he slid the gun beneath his belt in the middle of his back. Grabbing a thin black windbreaker from the foot of the bed, he shrugged into it, making sure it concealed the gun.

He left his room and climbed down the rickety steps to the front entrance. The building rented rooms by the month, the week, the day or the hour with no questions asked. It was the kind of building where the other boarders looked the other way and minded their own business. Starsky walked to the tiny café on the corner and went inside.

When the pretty oriental girl with long black hair came to his table, he ordered breakfast, speaking in fluent Vietnamese. The girl nodded shyly and hurried off to get his food and coffee. He ate in silence, ignoring the other diners around him. He was just finishing his coffee when the front door opened and a short, portly man wearing a three-piece suit came in. Spotting Starsky sitting alone at the back of the room, the man smiled and nodded slightly. Starsky nodded back and pulled some bills out of his pocket, leaving them on the table to pay for his order. Shoving himself to his feet, he left the café without a second glance at the other man who was standing at the counter ordering a cup of coffee to go.

Darting into the alley that ran between the café and the shop next door, Starsky leaned against the brick wall and waited patiently. Within a few minutes, he was joined by the portly man in the suit.

"You're right on time, David. As usual." The man said with a thin smile that never quite reached his eyes.

"Can the small talk, Regan. You wanted to see me. Remember?" Starsky said impatiently. "What do you want?"

"The Major needs to see you."

"Why?" The request was somewhat unusual. Starsky normally received his assignments through Regan without meeting with personally the Major.

"How am I supposed to know? I was just told to deliver the message. Three o'clock today. The usual place."

"Tell him, I'll be there." Starsky growled, turning to walk away without another word. He blended in with the rest of the pedestrians on the busy sidewalk and headed east, walking slowly, his eyes darting from side to side as he surveyed his surroundings for any signs of danger. It was an ingrained habit from his years on the police force, one that had saved his life numerous times in the past.

He spent most of the morning just walking and thinking, wondering how his life had ended up like this. He was thousands of miles away from home, in a foreign land he had sworn never to return to again. A man without a home, a man without a country, a man without an identity.

Saigon, renamed Ho Chi Minh City in 1976 was the capital city of South Vietnam with a population of over five million people. There were large shopping malls, supermarket chains and million dollar businesses. But there were also red light districts, sex arcades, and areas of the city that were controlled exclusively by the Chinese mafia. It was a city where it was easy to disappear into the shadows without being noticed. A good place to hide right out in the open for a man like David Starsky.

At three o'clock that afternoon, he made his way to a nondescript building on the east side of the city, near the docks. This was the part of town that reminded Starsky of the city during the Vietnam War in the late 60's when he had been stationed in-country. A naïve nineteen year old scared out of his mind most of the time. It seemed like a lifetime ago and most of the memories from that time in his life were securely locked away in the back of his mind, a place he never visited voluntarily. He had spent too many years trying desperately to forget.

Starsky knocked on a rear entrance to the building. Three raps, a pause than three more raps. The door was opened by a tall, good-looking young man in a military uniform, who looked at Starsky questioningly.

"Sergeant Starsky to see Major Lewis. He's expecting me."

The young officer consulted a clipboard hanging on the wall beside the door and then nodded, gesturing for Starsky to follow him. He led the way down a long, dimly lit hallway to a closed door at the far end of the building. He opened it and Starsky stepped inside.

There were four men gathered in the office, three youthful looking men dressed in Army fatigues and an older, more distinguished looking man with salt and pepper hair sitting behind a desk. The older man smiled and looked at Starsky as he slouched into the room. He was accustomed to the brunet's insolence and had given up trying to reprimand him for his appearance or his behavior. After this meeting, it wouldn't matter anyway. David Starsky would no longer be a thorn in his side.

"You wanted to see me?" Starsky said gruffly, staring at the other man with a hint of defiance glittering in his sapphire eyes.

"Yes, I did." Major Lewis acknowledged with a barely perceptible nod to the other men in the room.

Without warning, Starsky's arms were grabbed and twisted behind his back. He struggled against his captors but they only tightened their hold, forcing his wrists up towards the middle of his back putting a painful pressure on his shoulders.

"What the fuck is this?" Starsky growled, glaring at the Major, his eyes smoldering with barely repressed rage.

The Major nodded again and the two men holding him forced him to a wooden chair sitting in front of the desk. They forced him down into the chair, continuing to hold his arms while the fourth man in the room, snapped a pair of handcuffs around Starsky's wrists, effectively immobilizing him. Only then did they release him. Starsky pulled at the cuffs angrily, knowing it was useless to try to free himself.

"What the fuck is this?" he demanded again, his voice rising with anger as he sought answers to his questions..

"This Sergeant Starsky is the end of your assignment." The Major said with a faint smile. "You've outlived your usefulness to us."

"So what now? You gonna kill me? Go ahead. Be my guest. Blow my brains out." Starsky snarled, "You'd be doing me a favor. Save me the trouble of doing it myself."

"Nothing so mundane, Starsky…you're going to take an overdose. A terrible accident committed by an unstable individual." The Major said smugly.

"You're nuts." Starsky growled, glaring at the other man belligerently.

"I was afraid you'd feel that way." The major nodded at the other three men in the room once more. One of them grabbed Starsky's head in a headlock, while a second man took an amber colored bottle out of his fatigues. He popped off the lid and poured out a handful of red capsules into the palm of his hand. "All you have to do is take the pills and I promise you, you won't feel a thing. It'll be quick and painless."

"Fuck you!" Starsky spit out, clamping his lips together tightly and refusing to open them as the other man tried to force the pills into his mouth.

The third man instantly squeezed Starsky's nostrils shut making it impossible for him to breathe. He held his breath as long as he could but eventually had to open his mouth to pull much needed oxygen into his burning lungs. As he gasped in a lungful of air, the man shoved the handful of pills into his mouth and then clamped his hand over his lips so he couldn't spit them back out.

The next few minutes became a battle of wills as Starsky tried to keep from swallowing the lethal dose of pills and the other man tried to keep him from spitting them out. Eventually, it didn't matter since the pills began to dissolve in his mouth causing the brunet to gag on the bitter taste. The other man kept his hand clamped over Starsky's mouth until Starsky swallowed convulsively, reluctantly choking down the pills.

When the other man finally removed his hand, Starsky began to cough and gag. The Major watched him with an amused smile on his face. "If you throw them up, we'll just have to start all over again." He said with a smirk.

It wasn't long before Starsky felt his eyes growing heavy and his body growing weary. He struggled to keep his eyes open, fighting the effects of the barbiturates but it was a battle he knew he couldn't win. His head fell forward with his chin against his chest as he fell into a deeply drugged slumber.

The Major looked at his subordinates and ordered, "Get his body out of here and dump it somewhere where it won't be found for a few days."


	2. Chapter 2

**TORTURED MIND**

**CHAPTER TWO**

May Ling grabbed her little brother's hand and pulled him along behind her, ignoring his whining. They had enough food for supper and needed to get home. She wasn't even supposed to be in this part of town. She would be in trouble if her father found out she had come here to beg for money from some of the American Service men stationed in the area. She turned into an alley that cut through the abandoned buildings, tugging at her brother's hand.

Her heart jumped into her throat when she saw a jeep pull into the other end of the alley. Some of the uniformed men were nice but some were not. Deciding it was best not to take any chances May Ling darted behind an overflowing pile of garbage and gestured for her brother to be quiet. He may only be five years old but he had lived in the city long enough to know when to do as he was told. Peering around a bag of rotting fruit, May Ling watched as two uniformed men climbed out of the jeep. She watched in silence as they reached into the back seat of the vehicle and pulled out a third man. The man hung limply between them as if he were unconscious or dead. They threw him down on the ground in a tall pile of weeds and then climbed back into their jeep, driving away.

May Ling stayed hidden until she was positive the other men were gone and not coming back. Murders happened frequently in this part of time with the bodies being dumped in secluded locations to keep them from being found. _"Stay here." _She ordered her little brother in Vietnamese as she slipped out of hiding. Cautiously, she made her way down the alley to where she had seen the uniformed men throw the other man's body.

Carefully pushing aside the knee-high weeds, she found the man lying face down in the mud. With a trembling hand, she reached down to touch the side of his neck, startled when she found a pulse. It was slow and barely detectable but it was there. May Ling let her gaze sweep over the slender, almost emancipated body, but she didn't see any obvious injuries or wounds. He could be one of the local junkies who overdosed on some bad heroin. That happened a lot in this neighborhood too. But that didn't explain the two military men she had seen dumping the body. He was a Caucasian but May Ling didn't recognize him from the immediate neighborhood. Rocking back on her heels, she pondered what she should do. Finally, she decided to tell the priest that lived a few blocks away about him and let him take care of it that way she didn't have to get involved. Her decision made, she returned to fetch her brother and scurried away.

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Father Patrick was a Catholic Priest who had moved to Saigon during the war and decided to stay. He operated a small orphanage for the interracial children in the area, children who had been abandoned by their mothers after they had the misfortune of getting pregnant by one of the Military officers stationed in the area. It was a safe haven for children who would have otherwise died from neglect. Mixed blood children were alienated by their Vietnamese relatives and considered outcasts. When May Ling stopped by his tiny room at the orphanage on her way home to tell him about the man she had found in the alley, he promised to report it to the proper authorities.

After making the appropriate phone calls, he left his assistant in charge of the children and hurried to the alley to see if he could help the injured man until the ambulance arrived. He found him where May Ling had said he would be. Father Patrick knelt beside him and did a quick assessment of his condition. He was still breathing but his breathes were labored and spaced too far apart. If the ambulance didn't arrive soon it would be too late for this unfortunate soul. His skin was cold and clammy, his lips and finger beds tinged with blue, and his pupils dilated. All clear signs of some kind of drug overdose.

The priest eased the man over onto his back, resting the brunet head in his lap to try and ease the man's ragged breathing. Father Patrick made sure to turn the man's head to the side so he wouldn't choke if he vomited. There were already stains on his shirt and significant amount of vomit on the ground where he had been lying. Father Patrick breathed a heartfelt sigh of relief when he heard the sound of an approaching siren in the distance, saying a silent prayer of thanks to God for his blessed intervention on the stranger's behalf.

Within minutes, the ambulance and two police cars arrived at the scene. Father Patrick stepped aside and turned the stranger's care over to the professionals. He told the officers responding to his call what he knew, protecting May Ling's identity by simply telling them that a young girl had told him about finding the injured man knowing he would help. He wisely decided not to mention the two military men that May Ling said she had seen dumping the body among the abandoned buildings.

The uniformed officer taking the initial report nodded, looking bored with the priest's report. This sort of thing was far too common in the course of his day. A search of the victim's clothing didn't turn up any identification so if he died, he would be just another nameless statistic that the city would have to bury. There were too many others just like him in the city every day to bother going out of the way to try and identify him.

Father Patrick stayed at the scene until the unfortunate man was loaded into the back of the ambulance and driven away, then he returned to his own duties back at the orphanage. He would remember the stranger in his prayers that night, putting his faith in God to protect and care for the nameless young man.

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Doctor Stephanie Barnes was the physician on duty when the young man from the alley was brought into the emergency room at the closest hospital. Immediately recognizing the symptoms of a severe drug overdose, she sprang into action, taking drastic steps to try to save the man's life. After inserting a tube to assist with his labored breathing, she began pumping his stomach to remove the dangerous toxins from his system before they did anymore damage. She sent his stomach contents to the lab, along with a sample of his blood, to identify the drugs in his body so she could continue with the appropriate treatment. After her emergency care, he was still alive but in a deep coma. He was admitted to the intensive care unit, registered simply as _John Doe_ since his identity was unknown.

As she took a break between patients, she found her thoughts consumed with the young man whose life she had just saved. There was something about him that intrigued her. She wondered if he was somehow connected with one of the military troops stationed in the city. Most of the Caucasians in the city were either tourists, worked for one of the major corporations that had their headquarters in Saigon, or were somehow connected to the military. Very few Caucasians chose to live in Vietnam without a specific reason.

"Hey, Connie…" she called to one of the nurses that had helped her in the emergency room. "That guy we just admitted to the I.C.U., are you sure he didn't have anything on him to tell us who he is?"

"Just a key." The middle-aged nurse answered. "For a room at the Yellow Dragon

Hotel down in the red-light district."

"Get it for me, will ya?"

"Why? What are you going to do with it?"

"I thought I'd have Chang check it out." Stephanie said, naming her current boyfriend who worked for the local police department. "I'd really like to find out more about this guy. Something doesn't add up."

"That intuition of yours again?" Connie said with a smirk, her eyes twinkling good naturedly at she stole a glance at the petite doctor. Connie had been a nurse at this hospital for over ten years and was a good judge of character. She had a lot of respect for Stephanie. The young doctor was compassionate and gentle, caring deeply about the patients under her care.

"Something like that." Stephanie replied with a tiny smile.

Connie shrugged her shoulders and went to get the key that had been placed in an envelope at the nurse's station for safekeeping. The envelope also contained a handful of change, a leather throng the patient had been wearing around his neck with a Chinese coin hanging from it, and the two worn rings that he had been wearing on his left pinkie finger. Connie returned with the key and handed it to the doctor. Stephanie slipped it in her lab coat to give to Chang when she met him for supper later that evening when he took his own meal break. She forgot about her new patient as she hurried back to the emergency room to care for her next patient.

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Kim Chang found a place to park and hurried towards the hospital entrance. He was looking forward to spending some time with Stephanie before he had to return to duty. He had met the attractive doctor six months ago when he was shot serving an arrest warrant on a known pimp on his beat. Chang had always preferred Caucasian women to oriental women, finding them more independent and intelligent. He had been dating Stephanie for almost three months and was beginning to think she just might be the one for him. He found her waiting for him in the hospital cafeteria. They both got the daily special as they went through the serving line. Since the hospital served primarily the military personnel in the city, it was operated with more of a western atmosphere than most of the other hospitals in the city and that included the food served in the cafeteria, which was remarkably good for a hospital. Chang led the way to a secluded table near the back of the room and they sat down.

"How are things in the ER tonight?" Chang asked as he took a bite of his fried chicken, savoring the crunchy texture.

"Pretty quiet." Stephanie told him, as she added a bit of ranch dressing to her salad. "I did have an interesting case earlier…a John Doe. Barbiturate overdose. I was hoping maybe you could try and help me find out who he is."

"No ID?"

"No. A local priest found him and called it in. Someone dumped him in an alley down near the docks."

"That's a pretty rough neighborhood. He could be just another junkie who was hanging out down there looking for a fix." Chang stated in a matter of fact voice. With twelve years experience under his belt working the roughest beat in the city, he had become jaded over the years when it came to the atrocities he saw every day on the job.

"I don't think so. There were no obvious signs of that and the amount of drugs in his system suggests an overdose."

"So maybe he's just some poor soul who couldn't face another day." Chang said. "Decided pills were an easier way to off himself than blowing his brains out."

"I don't think that's it either." Stephanie insisted, "There were marks on his wrists like he'd been restrained fairly recently and some cuts inside his mouth that could have come from someone holding their hand over his mouth."

"You think somebody forced him to take the pills?"

"Maybe. Something just doesn't feel right about this case."

"What do you want me to do? I can check the missing person's reports and see if anyone has been reported that matches his description."

"Okay. He's between thirty-five and forty, about five feet eleven and weighs 140 pounds. He has blue eyes and brown curly hair. He also has a lot of extensive scarring on his chest and abdomen. Some of it is from surgical incisions but some of the scars are from bullet wounds. I'd say the scarring is at least two or three years old. There are a couple of other older scars from bullet wounds and a couple of scars that look like old knife wounds."

"Sounds like he's been doing something illegal for a living…could be he has some outstanding warrants. I can check that too. Anything else?"

"Just this." she took the key out of her lab jacket and handed it across the table to him.

"This place is a dump." Chang said with a snort when he read the name on the tag. "Rents rooms by the hour with no questions answered. If he was staying there, I'd say he was probably hiding from somebody…or just didn't care." He pocketed the key. "I'll check it out and see what I can find out…but don't expect much. He could be from anywhere…even from the states. If he's on the run, he could be hard to trace unless he has a record of some kind here."

"I know it's asking a lot but I'd really like to know. Something tells me there's more to this case than meets the eye."

"That sixth sense of yours again, huh?" Chang said with a playful smile.

"Why does everyone keep asking me that?" Stephanie said in an exasperated voice. She smiled to show Chang that she didn't really mind his good natured teasing. Every since childhood, Stephanie had often experienced unexplained "feelings" that proved uncannily accurate. It was a sense she had learned not to ignore.

"I'll see what I can do." Chang promised. "Can you come by my place after you get off?"

"It'll be late, probably around midnight." Stephanie warned him. "It could be even later if I get an emergency at the last minute."

"That's okay. I don't mind waiting up. I'm off tomorrow so we can spend the whole day together until you have to come in."

"That sounds great. I'll be there." They finished their meal and then Stephanie walked Chang to the front entrance where they shared a brief kiss as they parted ways to return to their respective jobs.


	3. Chapter 3

**TORTURED MIND**

**CHAPTER THREE**

It was two days before Chang had the spare time to check out the room at Yellow Dragon Hotel. He had been there several times in the past, usually to check out a murdered prostitute or to break up a fight between two of the residents. This was his normal beat and he was familiar with the neighborhood. And the residents were familiar with him. More importantly, they trusted him, sharing information with him that they would never tell anyone else.

Before checking out the room the stranger had rented, Chang decided to talk to some of the permanent residents of the hotel to see if any of them could tell him anything. Unfortunately, nobody he talked too seemed to know much at all about the young man. He had been living there for two months and kept to himself. Nobody was even sure of his name. He was registered as John Reynolds but Chang was certain that was more than likely an alias. He had paid for his room for three months in advance and that was all the desk clerk cared about.

One of the residents, a prostitute named Ty Loy, admitted to having had sex with him a few times since he'd been there. She said he was always well mannered and polite, never demanding anything kinky or violent. He always paid well, above the going rate for her services. But, he had never shared any personal information with her. The only thing Ty Loy could tell Chang was that the stranger spoke fluent Vietnamese and had a New York accent when he spoke English. She also mentioned that he sometimes had violent nightmares, screaming out in his sleep, but she had never questioned him about them. After all, it was none of her business.

After he had finished questioning the residents and the desk clerk, Chang used the key Stephanie had given him to get into the unidentified man's room. It was sparsely furnished like all the other rooms in the hotel with a single bed, a battered dresser with one drawer missing, and a nightstand. A single bare bulb hanging from the ceiling provided the only light in the room other than what filtered in through the grimy window overlooking the street.

Chang frowned thoughtfully as he looked around the room. There were no personal effects evident, other than a few faded tee shirts and some ragged jeans hanging in the tiny closet. The dresser was empty except for some socks and underwear in the top drawer. Hidden underneath the underwear, Chang found a full of box of ammunition for a .38 Beretta, strengthening his suspicions that the man was involved in some kind of illegal activity.

Chang took his time searching the room, taking careful note of everything he found. There wasn't much. Besides the ammunition and clothing, he found generic brands of toiletries and hygiene products in the bathroom. Stuffed under the bed, he found a battered, well-worn green duffle bag, similar to the type issued to military personnel. The name and serial number that had been stamped on the bag had been carefully marked out so they were unreadable, further evidence to back up Chang's theory that the man didn't want to be identified if he was found.

In a hidden pocket sewn inside the duffel bag, he found a faded, folded photograph of two young men standing with their arms slung around each other. From the description Stephanie had given him of her patient, Chang knew one of the men in the picture had to be the John Doe. The other man was a tall, good-looking blond. Both men were dressed casually in jeans and tee shirts. There was nothing in the picture to identify where it had been taken and there was nothing written on the back except the date 6-22-75. The picture was almost ten years old but obviously it meant something to the man who rented this room. Also in the bag was a faded business card for a Detective Sergeant Kenneth Hutchinson, Bay City Police Department, Bay City, California. There was a phone number and an extension listed on the card. A second phone number was written on the back of the card but no name to identify who it belonged to. Chang stuck the business card and the picture into his side pocket. It wasn't much to go on but it was all he had. The man's identity was still a mystery. Locking the room behind him, Chang stopped at the front desk to remind the clerk not to rent out the stranger's room until Chang told him that it was okay to do so.

Returning to police headquarters, Chang spent the rest of the afternoon checking missing person's reports, open warrants and international alerts but none of them seemed to fit the mysterious stranger's profile or description. Chang considered getting a set of the man's fingerprints to see if he could run them through the FBI's database. That might be one way of identifying him. Besides the fingerprints of all convicted felons, the database also contained the fingerprints of anyone who had ever been in the military, anyone holding a government job, or anyone else who had been required by law to be fingerprinted. Shoving himself back from his desk, he went to another office to see if he could borrow a fingerprint card and ink to take with him to the hospital when he met Stephanie later.

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Stephanie stood beside her patient's bed and glanced through his chart. His vital signs were strong and regular but the brunet remained in a coma from the overdose. If he had taken the pills himself, he had been serious about killing himself. He had ingested a lethal amount. It was a miracle that he had survived long enough to make it to the hospital. If the ambulance had arrived just a few minutes later, he would have already been dead. Luckily, he had vomited sometime after ingesting the pills which could have helped to save his life by ridding his system of some of the drugs.

With his tangled curls trimmed and combed, his face clean-shaven, and a recent bath, Stephanie noticed that he was a ruggedly handsome man. She was at a loss to explain her strong connection to this stranger but somehow she sensed that he needed her help. She wondered if Chang had been able to find anything out about him. She would find out soon enough when they met later in the cafeteria.

"How's he doing?" Stephanie asked the day nurse, a pretty oriental named Lotis.

"The same." Lotis said in a soft, quiet voice, automatically lowering her eyes in deference to her superior. "He's very strong but still very sick."

"Yes, he is." Stephanie agreed with a sigh. Impulsively she reached out to brush a curl back from his forehead, laughing softly when it twisted around her finger. "Keep an eye on him." She instructed Lotis "And page me right away if there's any change, any change at all."

"Yes, Doctor." Lotis said politely, still keeping her head bowed and avoiding looking directly into Stephanie's eyes. Although Stephanie had lived here for almost six years, some of the oriental women's meek natures still bothered her. She knew their submissiveness was part of their culture, the way they were raised by their elders but she still encouraged her staff to consider themselves as equals when they were at the hospital. Some of the women, however, like Lotis, continued to consider themselves second-class citizens. Even though they worked outside the home, in the privacy of their homes, they still bowed to their husband's whims and demands.

Stephanie continued her rounds, checking on her other patients until it was time for her supper break. She saw Chang already waiting for her at their favorite table. He had taken the liberty of ordering her a bowl of soup, a chicken salad sandwich, and a salad.

"Hi, honey." She said, smiling as she sat down across from Chang. It had been a long shift so far and she was tired but the sight of Chang's handsome face always lifted her spirits. Unable to suppress her curiosity, she blurted out, "Did you find out anything about my John Doe?"

"Yes and no." Chang told her. "He's been staying in that room for the last couple of months. He's registered as John Reynolds but I doubt if that's his real name. There was nothing of a personal nature in his room. No letters, no address books, no pictures." He decided not to mention the picture or business card he had found in the duffle bag since he still wasn't sure if they were significant or not. "I did find a box of ammunition in his dresser drawer but no weapon in the room. According to some of the other residents, he kept to himself and didn't say much. One resident did tell me that he speaks fluent Vietnamese and English with a New York accent. That's about it, other than the fact that I didn't find any outstanding warrants or missing person's reports for anyone fitting his description."

"Isn't there anything else you can try?"

"There's one thing…I can take his fingerprints and run them through the FBI database. If he's ever been arrested for a felony, held a government job, been in the military, or held a job that required him to have his prints taken, we might get lucky."

"Can you take his prints while he's in here?" Stephanie asked, taking a bite of her sandwich and washing it down with a sip of lemonade.

Chang grinned and patted his pocket. "Got a print card and the ink right here. Piece of cake."

After they had eaten, Chang accompanied her to the ICU where he prepared to take John Doe's fingerprints, starting with his left thumb print. He frowned as he rolled the man's fingertip over the surface of the card and stopped. He lifted the brunet's hand and studied the pads of his fingers intently.

"What is it?" Stephanie asked anxiously when she saw the frustrated expression on Chang's face.

"His fingerprints have been surgically altered so they can't be used to identify him."

"Why on earth would somebody do that?" Stephanie asked, arching her brows in a surprised gesture.

"The only other person I've ever seen who had it done was a international hit man who worked for the highest bidder." Chang said grimly. He looked at the unconscious brunet and muttered under his breath. "Who the hell are you, buddy? And what the hell have you been up to?"

"Surely you can't be suggesting that he kills people for a living." Stephanie said in disbelief.

"I'm not suggesting anything." Chang said offhandedly "But I intend to find out who the hell he is if it's the last thing I do." He thought about the faded business card in his pocket. He decided he was going to call Detective Sergeant Kenneth Hutchinson in Bay City, California as soon as he could. With the time difference between Vietnam and the United States, he would have to wait until the following evening to make his call since there was almost a fifteen-hour time difference between the two countries.


	4. Chapter 4

**TORTURED MIND**

**CHAPTER FOUR**

"Lieutenant," the young officer said shifting nervously from one foot to the other. "There's a call for you on line three. The switchboard said it's an overseas call."

"Thanks." Ken Hutchinson said, slipping into his Captain's empty office so he could take the call in private. He frowned, wondering why someone was calling him from another country. None of his friends, acquaintances, or family was traveling abroad at the moment. Settling down at the desk, he picked up the phone and punched the button for line three. In a crisp professional voice he said, "This is Lieutenant Hutchinson. May I help you?"

"Lieutenant Hutchinson?" a man said, his voice sounding as clear as if he were calling from a few blocks away instead of somewhere thousands of miles away. "My name is Kim Chang and I'm a detective with the Police Department in Saigon."

"Saigon?" Hutch said, even more puzzled then before. "Excuse me, Detective Chang, but I'm at a loss here. Why are you calling me? I'm not involved in any cases that have a connection to Saigon. Are you sure that you have the right number?"

"Lieutenant, I understand your confusion." Chang said smoothly. This man was the only lead he had to the mysterious John Doe in the hospital. "Just give me a minute to explain."

"Go ahead. It's your dime."

"I'm hoping that you might be able to help me identify a man that was recently admitted to a hospital here. He's listed as a John Doe and he may or may not have voluntarily taken an overdose of barbiturates."

"I still don't understand why you're calling me." Hutch said mildly. He found himself what could be so important about a John Doe half way across the world that would lead a police officer from Viet Nam to bother calling him.

"The only thing I've been able to find out about the man so far is that nobody seems to know him very well, his fingerprints have been surgically altered to discourage any attempts at identification, he has numerous scars from old bullet wounds and other injuries indicating to me that he's been involved in something dangerous, and I found an old business card in his room with your name on it."

"I still don't see how I can help you." Hutch said "I've been a cop for over twelve years. Half the felons and the snitches in this town probably have one of my cards."

"This man is about thirty-five to forty years of age with brown hair and blue eyes, one hundred and forty pounds."

"That's not much to go on and that description still fits a hell of lot of people." Hutch pointed out with a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

"I realize that. What if I faxed you a picture of him along with my phone number at the station? Then you can call me back if you recognize him."

"I suppose I could do that. One question though…aren't you going to a hell of a lot of trouble just to identify a John Doe?"

"Let's just say I'm doing a favor for his doctor who happens to be a very close friend of mine. She feels that the overdose may not have been accidental."

"Okay." Hutch said with a sigh of resignation. "Send your picture and I'll let you know if this guy rings any bells when I see it…but no promises. You know how it is."

"Yes, I do know but I'd still appreciate your help. My gut tells me that this guy is either on the run or he's hiding from somebody. Either way, the cop in me wants to find out just who the hell he really is."

"I can understand that." Hutch admitted. "Do you need the address to mail that too?"

"Is it the same one that was on the card? 3641 North Fifteenth Street, Metropolitan Division, Bay City Police Department.?"

"Yeah." Hutch said "Mark it attention Lieutenant Kenneth Hutchinson, Homicide Division."

"Tell me, how long have you been a Lieutenant? The card I found said it was Sergeant Hutchinson."

"I've only been a Lieutenant for about six months." Hutch told him

"Then I guess congratulations are in order on your promotion." Chang said with a slight chuckle.

"Thanks. I'll be watching out for that picture. Good-bye, Detective Chang." Hutch said, disconnecting the call. He sat there for several minutes, deep in thought. He wondered who the John Doe that Detective Chang was so interested in really was. He had a feeling there was more to the story than the other man was telling him. Maybe the picture would jog Hutch's memory when he saw it. Or maybe not. There was no way of knowing how the mysterious John Doe had gotten hold of one of his old business cards.

Hutch sighed heavily as he shoved himself to his feet and left the Captain's office. Although he still worked for Homicide, these days he did most of his investigating from his desk, leaving the street work to the younger, more ambitious detectives on the squad. Although Hutch sometimes missed the excitement and thrill of working the streets, most of the time, he was relieved to be out of the direct line of fire.

After Starsky had almost been killed in the parking garage downstairs, Hutch had spent almost a year nursing his partner back to health, refusing to work with anyone else in the meantime. Then the department decided that Starsky was unfit to return to duty and Hutch had seriously considered quitting the force himself. Before he could finalize that decision, Starsky had been killed and Hutch had come dangerously close to losing it himself. They had been more than just partners, more than just best friends, they had been more than brothers. Their lives had been so intertwined for so long, that Hutch didn't want to go on living himself without Starsky at his side. He had spent almost a year trying to climb into the bottom of a bottle and another six months clawing his way back out.

Unable to find the courage to kill himself deliberately, he had tried drinking himself to death only to find that didn't work for him either. When he was suspended for punching a superior officer after the man made a derogatory comment about Starsky, Hutch found himself forced into rehabilitation by the department. It was either that or be brought up on felonious assault charges. Hutch had done more than just punch the other man; he had put him in the hospital with three broken ribs, a broken nose, and a broken jaw.

While in rehab, Hutch had taken a long hard look at himself and at his life. He'd hit bottom after losing Starsky there was no doubt about that. He still thought about his old partner almost every day and he cherished his memories of his partner and the best friend he had ever had. Losing Starsky had left a huge void in his life and an even bigger hole in his heart. After Starsky's death, Hutch had made it his duty to care for Starsky's mother, Rachel, until her death four months ago. The doctors had said it was a heart attack but Hutch knew she had died of a broken heart. She had lost both her husband and her eldest son to the violence of the streets, to the badge that they both had worn so proudly. Hutch decided to go on being a cop but he still refused to work the streets with another partner. He would never trust anyone else to watch his back the way Starsky had done. Finally, he had opted to take the Lieutenant's exam, which would get him off the streets and give him more supervisory duties within the department.

The mysterious call from Detective Chang bothered Hutch the rest of the day. Something nagged at the big blond, something he couldn't put his finger on exactly, just a feeling that something was about to happen that would change his life dramatically. Hutch chuckled to himself, hunches and 'feelings' had always been Starsky's thing, not his. Hutch had always been the cool, reserved type who didn't put much faith in things he couldn't find a logical reason for. By the next morning, Hutch had put the overseas call out of his mind.

Ten days later, he was at his desk catching up on some neglected paperwork when the phone on his desk rang. Grabbing the receiver, he said, "Hutchinson."

"Hutch, honey…its Minnie." The voice of a petite policewoman who had worked at the department almost as long as Hutch purred in his ear. "I got a package down here for you that was just delivered. It's marked Urgent and it's postmarked Saigon."

Hutch could hear the curiosity in her voice but he merely said, "Bring it up to me, would ya?"

"Right away." Minnie said, hanging up the phone.

Less than five minutes later, Minnie came into the squad room, clutching a large manila envelope tightly. Minnie was good friend to Hutch and she had adored Starsky. She had mourned almost as much as Hutch had when Starsky died. In spite of her thick dark glasses, Minnie was still an attractive woman even in the regulation blue uniform she wore daily. She had never married, yet seemed content with her lot in life. If it hadn't been for Minnie and another close friend, Huggy Bear, Hutch would never have made it through the memorial service for Starsky. He had sobbed openly, not caring who saw his tears of grief for his friend and partner. For weeks after that, Minnie or Huggy always seemed to be there whenever he turned around, offering support and comfort in any way they could. But, neither of them could give Hutch what he needed the most, Starsky back by his side where he should be. Even when Hutch had tried to lose himself in the bottle, Minnie and Huggy had stuck by him even when some of his other friends had gave him up as a lost cause.

Without a word, Minnie handed Hutch the envelope, standing beside the desk as he opened it and pulled out the papers it contained. The first page was a letter from Detective Chang giving Hutch a few more details about the mysterious John Doe, including the fact that there was some evidence that indicated that he had been restrained and forced to take the overdose that had nearly killed him. There was also a brief summery of the details Chang had managed to uncover which wasn't much. Just the name of the hotel where he had a room, the fact that he spoke fluent Vietnamese and a copy of the business card Chang had found in his room. Chang had copied both sides of the card and Hutch was surprised to find his old home phone number written on the back of the card in his partner's left handed scrawl. After Starsky's death, Hutch had moved to another part of town and had his number changed.

There was also a letter enclosed from the doctor treating Starsky. She detailed the circumstances surrounding his admission to the hospital and listed the drugs that had been found in his system. She also went into detail about his medical treatment, stating that he was still in a coma and there was some doubt if he would ever regain consciousness. She also noted several scars on the man's body, obviously from old bullet wounds as well as numerous scars from surgical incisions.

The last item in the envelope was the picture that Chang had promised to send. Minnie watched as Hutch pulled out the photo and stared at it for several long minutes, his face going so pale and his breathing becoming so erratic that for a moment Minnie was convinced the big blond was having a heart attack.

"Hutch?" She said in a worried, concerned voice as she took a step closer to him and reached out for his arm. With a sudden strangled cry, Hutch suddenly shoved back his chair so violently that it overturned and jumped to his feet. Minnie watched in horror as the ice blue eyes rolled back in his head and Hutch collapsed to the floor unconscious, the picture still clutched tightly in his hand.

Minnie immediately yelled for help even as she sank to her knees beside the unconscious man, looking for any obvious injures from his unexpected crash to the floor. She reached out with trembling fingers to check the pulse in his neck. She was relieved to find it strong but racing as if Hutch had just finished a two-mile jog. Overwhelmed by curiosity, she gently slipped the picture out of his limp fingers as other officers steamed into the room to find out why she was screaming for help.

Minnie stole a glance at the picture she held in her hand and felt her own heart beginning to race, as her mind tried to comprehend what her eyes were seeing in black and white. In spite of the sunken eyes, the gaunt face, the longer than usual curls and the emancipated body of the man lying in the hospital bed in the picture, there was no mistaking the familiar features of Detective Sergeant David Michael Starsky. Minnie leaned heavily against the side of the desk, feeling lightheaded herself and praying that she didn't add to the chaos by fainting herself.

"What happened here?" the booming voice of Captain Harold Dobey echoed in the room as he burst out of his office to see what was going on in his squad room. His eyes widened in alarm when he saw Hutch lying unconscious on the floor.

"He passed out, Captain." Minnie said, carefully slipping the picture out of sight behind her back. She intended to show it to Captain Dobey when they were alone, along with the contents of the envelope it had come in. Her mind was still reeling with shock. It was no wonder that Hutch had reacted so violently to the image in the picture.

After some anxious coaxing and a few mild slaps to his cheek, Hutch began to come around, blinking his eyes in confusion at the worried faces of the co-workers surrounding him. He brushed off the hands that reached out to help him to his feet and grabbed Minnie's hand to pull himself upright. Their eyes met, a silent understanding passing between them, agreeing without speaking not to tell anyone except Captain Dobey what had really happened. After reassuring his friends and fellow officers that he was fine, Hutch looked at his superior officer and friend, a man that had been like a second father to both Starsky and Hutch, and said, "Captain, could Minnie and I talk to you for a minute? In your office?"

"You'd better be ready to tell me what just happened here!" Dobey demanded in a deep commanding voice that held more than a little concern. "And what the hell you were doing unconscious on the floor!" He brusquely ushered Hutch and Minnie into his office after telling the other officers and concerned clerical staff to return to their own duties.

Captain Dobey settled down at his desk and then listened, stunned, as Hutch told him about the mysterious call from Detective Chang and then showed him the letters from Chang and Doctor Barnes, along with the photograph of their unidentified John Doe. Dobey blanched, his reaction mirroring both those of Hutch and Minnie when he saw the picture of a man they had all believed was dead for over two years.

"What the hell is going on here?" Dobey growled his voice louder and more strained than usual. "And how in the hell did Starsky end up in a hospital in Saigon?" Dobey's use of the mild profanity spoke volumes as to his current state of distress.

"I don't have a fucking clue!" Hutch said his own voice tight and carefully controlled "But I intend to find out! I'm going to Saigon as soon as I can make the arrangements."


	5. Chapter 5

**TORTURED MIND**

**CHAPTER FIVE**

Chang scowled as he tried to decipher his own handwriting. He'd been in a hurry when he wrote out the report and now most of what he had written the night before didn't make sense. Concentrating on the report, he didn't hear the younger officer come up behind him until he spoke, startling him momentarily.

"What is it?" Chang said a bit more gruffly than he intended, embarrassed at being startled so easily.

The younger man, a relatively new transfer to the department, flushed in humiliation and said, "There's a Detective Hutchinson waiting for you in the lobby. He said he just got in from the states."

"He's here?" Chang said in a surprised voice. He had been expecting a call back from the Bay City Detective; he had never expected him to travel all the way to Viet Nam. He felt his heart pound in excitement. If the man had traveled all this way after receiving the package from Chang, then he must know who the mysterious John Doe was. "Thank you. I'll take care of it." Chang said, dismissing the younger man with a curt nod of his head. Tossing the report in his inbox, he hurried out of the squad room and down the steps to the ground floor of the building.

Although he had no idea what Detective Hutchinson looked like, he had no trouble spotting the tall good-looking blond that stood out among the crowd like a beacon. Walking over to the taller man, Chang smiled pleasantly and said, "Detective Hutchinson?"

"Yes." Hutch said instantly, turning to face the smaller man with the oriental features. "Are you Detective Chang?"

"Yes. I'm glad to meet you." Chang said offering his hand.

"Same here." Hutch said, grasping Chang's hand and giving him a firm handshake.

"Since you've come all the way here from the states, I can only assume that the picture I sent you rang a bell." Chang said.

"Is there some place that we can talk?" Hutch asked somberly. "In private?"

Chang nodded and motioned for Hutch to follow him down a long hallway to his left. Chang led the way to an empty office and ushered Hutch inside, closing the door securely behind them. He turned to face the tall blond expectantly and waited for him to explain his sudden appearance in Viet Nam.

"The man you know as John Doe is named David Starsky and up until two years ago, he was my partner." Hutch said

"Your partner? He's a cop?" Chang said in a startled voice. This was the one scenario he hadn't considered. Chang's cop instincts kicked in as he considered what Hutch had just said. "What happened two years ago?"

"He was killed when his car was pushed off the road and into a canyon. It exploded on impact and the body inside was burned so badly it couldn't be positively identified even through dental records." Hutch said flatly.

"Well, it seems like that complicates things for both of us, doesn't it?" Chang said gravely "How does a dead man suddenly reappear two years later in South Viet Nam?"

"That's what I'm here to find out." Hutch said in a determined voice. His cold ice blue eyes softened. "How is he? Is he still in a coma?"

"No, fortunately he came out of the coma a few days ago." Chang said hesitantly. He sighed heavily "Unfortunately, he's nearly catatonic and isn't responding to anyone. All he does is set in a chair and rock back and forth muttering in Vietnamese." He paused then added, "He just keeps saying _Let me die_ over and over again."

Hutch looked stricken at Chang's news but he wasn't discouraged yet. "Can I see him? If anybody can reach him, I can." He said confidently. "He wasn't just my partner; he was also my best friend."

"Of course. I can take you to the hospital right now. However, I want to warn you that he may not be the man you remember. The nurses had to restrain him when he first came out of the coma because he became quite violent."

"Take me to him now." Hutch said. He knew his voice sounded demanding and arrogant but he didn't care. He had to get to Starsky. His partner needed him.

"Let's go." Chang said mildly, undisturbed by Hutch's behavior. He sensed the other man's fear and concern for his friend, a friend he had assumed was dead for the past two years, now miraculously restored to life in a hospital half way around the world. Hutch followed Chang out of the police station to the parking lot behind the building where his compact cream-colored car was parked. Hutch scrunched into the front seat, folding his long legs uncomfortably under the dash of the small car. An uneasy silence fell between the two men as Chang maneuvered the crowded, busy downtown streets to the nearby hospital.

When they arrived at the hospital, Hutch followed Chang to the sixth floor where the mental health unit was located. The idea of Starsky being confined in a psych unit bothered Hutch, reminding him of the time they had to go undercover at Cabrillo State back in Bay City. Chang pushed a buzzer on the wall beside the door that led into the ward and spoke into the speaker mounted in the wall. He identified himself, waiting for the answering buzz that would open the locked door and admit them to the ward.

The two men entered a large room with several sofas and chairs arranged around the perimeter. Several tables were scattered around the middle of the room where patients were sitting, either staring into space, or doing some sort of activity. Ignoring the patients in the main room, Chang led the way down the hallway to a room at the end and opened the door quietly. Hutch caught his breath, his heart leaping into his throat, as they entered the room and he saw his former partner and best friend sitting in a chair in front of the window. Starsky's hands were folded in his lap and he was mumbling the same phrase over and over again under his breath just as Chang had told Hutch. Even though Hutch didn't speak Vietnamese, he recognized the stilted sounds and realized he had heard Starsky speak it a few times before in the past, usually when he was having a nightmare that he always refused to talk about afterwards. Hutch felt a pain clutch at his heart as he remembered what Chang had told him the words meant that Starsky kept repeating.

Starsky's eyes were staring sightlessly out the window, the expressive sapphire orbs flat and devoid of any emotion or feeling. His face was gaunt with deep lines etched around his eyes and mouth that hadn't been there before. Hutch was startled to see strands of silver threaded in through the thick dark curls. Instinctively, Hutch immediately moved to his side and knelt down beside him so he could look into those eyes that he remembered so well.

"Hey, Starsk…" Hutch said in the soft gentle voice he reserved solely for his partner when he was hurt or upset. "Hey, buddy…it's me. It's Hutch." Without thinking twice, he reached out to lay his hand on Starsky's upper thigh. Hutch had expected some kind of reaction but not the one his action caused. Starsky lurched from the chair and crouched in the corner of the room, pulling his knees up against his chest, wrapping his arms around his legs and hiding his face against his bent knees. His shoulders shook with silent sobs, his whole body trembling with fear.

Hutch rocked back on his heels, his ice blue eyes filled with hurt. Starsky had never pulled away from Hutch's touch before. "What's wrong with him" Hutch stammered, his pain and hurt clearly reflected in his voice.

"The psychiatrist says he's retreated deep inside of himself where he can't feel the pain anymore. He's been severely traumatized and his mind has simply shut down for a while." Chang explained gently "Don't take it too hard…he reacts that way when anyone tries to touch him."

"How long is he going to be like this?" Hutch demanded, longing to touch his partner again, to offer comfort the way he always did best but not wanting to upset Starsky any further.

"It's hard to say." Chang said with a shrug of his shoulders. "It could be a few days, it could be a few weeks, it could be…" he hesitated, reluctant to continue.

"Or it could be permanent." Hutch said bleakly, finishing Chang's sentence for him.

"Unfortunately, yes…that is a possibility." Chang admitted

"What can I do?"

"Just be there for him. Talk to him…reassure him that he's safe and nobody is going to hurt him." Chang suggested, "Most of all…don't give up on him."

"On Starsky?" Hutch said with a wary smile. "Never." He turned to glance at Chang, the fire in his eyes underlining his words. "I've spent the last two years going through hell believing that he was dead and that I'd never see him again. Now that I've found him, I'm not going to let him out of my sight."

The fierce determination in Hutch's voice made Chang smile. The smaller man was convinced after seeing the two men together that if anyone could break through the barrier that the brunet had built around himself, then the big blond could. Somehow, he sensed that the two had shared a very special relationship in the past and that Hutch was fiercely protective of his former partner.

"Why don't we see if we can find the doctor and talk to him?" Chang suggested, "I'll have one of the nurses come in and tend to him." He nodded at Starsky who was still crouched in the corner, rocking back and forth again and muttering the same tired phrase repeatedly. "They'll have to sedate him to get him back into bed."

"NO!" Hutch said sharply "How am I supposed to get through to him if he's sedated all the time?"

"You"ll have to talk to the doctor about that. It's not up to me." Chang reminded him gently. He watched as Hutch reluctantly shoved himself to his feet. With one last lingering glance at his best friend, he followed Chang out of the room.

They found Doctor Wang at the nurse's station writing out some orders for his patients. He looked up when Chang and Hutch joined him, glancing at the tall blond suspiciously.

"Wang, this is Detective Hutchinson from the States. He's a friend of our John Doe whose real name is David Starsky."

"That's wonderful." Wang said in a heavily accented voice. "Maybe now we can make some progress with our stubborn friend." Hutch snorted at the Doctor's apt description of Starsky's personality.

"I need to be with him as much as possible." Hutch said, his tone making clear that he wasn't about to take no for an answer.

"I'm sure we can work something out." Wang said somewhat evasively. "As long as your presence doesn't interfere with his treatment."

"And what kind of treatment is that exactly?" Hutch asked

"Medication to control his mood swings…and anti-depressants…restraints when he becomes violent to keep him from hurting himself or someone else."

"NO!" Hutch said loudly, his voice startling the doctor for a moment. "I can't reach him if he's drugged up all the time and restraining him will only make matters worse!"

"Detective Hutchinson," Wang said politely with a hint of annoyance in his voice at having his choice of treatment questioned. "I must insist that you continue to allow me to treat my patient as I see fit. I am his doctor."

"And I have his medical power of attorney." Hutch said, "That gives me the right to refuse any treatment that I deem unnecessary."

"Can you prove that?" Chang asked, deciding it was time to step in before the confrontation between Hutch and the doctor got out of hand.

"You bet I can." Hutch said, pulling his wallet out of his pocket and taking out a worn, faded piece of paper that he handed to Chang to examine. Chang carefully read the legal document and then nodded as he handed it back to Hutch. Looking at Wang, he said, "He's right. He has the authority to make medical decisions on Mr. Starsky's behalf if Mr. Starsky is unable to decide for himself."

"And you know as well as I do that piece of paper means nothing here." Wang said tightly, not willing to back down.

"I beg to differ, Doctor," Chang said "But Mr. Starsky is still a US citizen and this hospital is primarily a military hospital for US personnel stationed here, so Detective Hutchinson is within his legal rights to insist on making medical decisions for his partner."

Wang's eyes flashed with anger but he wisely held his tongue. "All right." He conceded "I'll order the restraints discontinued…unless he becomes violent again and hurts someone. And I'll cut back on the sedation but I won't discontinue it entirely, or the anti-depressants."

"Fair enough." Hutch said with a grim smile knowing that he had won the first round. "And I intend to stay here with him at night so I'll need a cot moved into his room."

"Now see here!" Wang said angrily, resenting the blond's demands that would disrupt the quiet routine of the ward. Before he could continue, Hutch held up a warning finger and said coldly,

"That's not negotiable, Doctor. If you don't agree, I'll have you removed from his case and have him treated by someone else."

"All right." Wang said begrudgingly. "We'll do it your way…for now." Gathering his things, the Doctor stood up and stomped away, gaining some degree of satisfaction from his childish behavior.

Chang burst out laughing and clapped Hutch on the back. "I'm glad we're on the same side, Hutchinson. I'd sure hate to have you after me."

"Please, call me Hutch." Hutch told him with a grin. "Can I talk to the doctor that treated him originally? Your friend who suspected that the overdose may not have been accidental?"

"Sure. Come with me. She should be coming on duty just about now."


	6. Chapter 6

**TORTURED MIND**

**CHAPTER SIX**

Stephanie was just coming on duty and was pleased to see Chang standing by the nurse's station along with a tall, handsome blond when she came on the floor. Smiling brightly, she joined them and said,  
"What are you doing here?"

"I'm glad to see you too, Honey." Chang teased her with a wide grin. He nodded at the man at his side, "This is Detective Kenneth Hutchinson from Bay City California. He came all the way here from the states about your John Doe."

"I'm so glad to meet you, Mr. Hutchinson." Stephanie said sincerely, holding out her hand graciously.

"Please, call me Ken or Hutch." Hutch told her with a brilliant smile. He took her hand, his touch more of a gentle caress than a handshake. Stephanie instantly recognized the inbreed charm and good manners of a well-bred gentleman. "I can't thank you enough for acting on your instincts about my partner instead of just writing him off as an attempted suicide."

"Partner?" Stephanie said, arching her brows in confusion.

"Turns out our John Doe is a police officer too…who supposedly was killed in a car accident over two years ago back in the States." Chang clarified for her.

"So the plot thickens." Stephanie stated. She looked deeply into Hutch's eyes and saw the sincere concern and compassion reflected there. She had a good feeling about this man. He would help unravel the mystery surrounding her patient and make sure that no more harm came to the brunet. She was sure of that. "From the scars he carries, it looks like your partner has had more than his share of misfortune."

"You don't know the half of it." Hutch told her with an awkward grin. "Trouble seems to find Starsky no matter where he goes." The ice blue eyes darkened slightly. "And I intend to find out how he ended up here and why if it's the last thing I do."

"Was your friend ever in the Military?" Stephanie asked having come to some conclusions of her own since first treating the brunet she had dubbed John Doe.

"Yes, he was in the Army for three years, stationed here in 'Nam during the war." Hutch confirmed. "He never talks about that time in his life so I don't really know all the details."

"I'm not surprised. It was a very bad time for the soldiers who had the misfortune to be here." She glanced at Chang with a fond smile. "It was a very bad time for the Vietnamese people too…especially the innocent ones." She looked back at Hutch somberly. "I think the Military could have something to do with whatever happened to your friend. I've heard rumors about a couple of uniformed men visiting some of the other hospitals in the area, asking questions about a man matching your friend's description. I've already alerted everyone to direct them to me if they show up here."

Hutch's mind instantly went into protective mode. Glancing at Chang, he said "Is there any way you can post an officer on the ward where Starsky is to make sure nobody can get to him if I'm not here?"

"I wish I could," Chang said somberly "But my hands are tied. Without any hard evidence that he's been involved in a crime, either as a witness or a victim and needs police protection, there's nothing I can do."

"Then I may have to move him some place else for his own protection." Hutch said.

"You can't do that right now." Stephanie said, "I understand your concern but his mental status is too fragile to deal with any more trauma. Until he at least starts responding more to his surroundings and isn't so combative or resistant to being touched, you could very easily send him over the edge and then you'll never get him back." She watched the conflicting emotions that washed over the blond's face. Finally, Hutch sighed heavily and nodded his head in agreement.

"Okay, I'll do it your way for now but the minute I think he's in any kind of danger here, I'm taking him out of here." Hutch said firmly.

"Fair enough." Stephanie said with a smile. "I'd feel the same way if I were in your position." She glanced at her watch pointedly "Now, I really have to get to work."

"I'll meet you in the cafeteria at seven-thirty." Chang told her

"I'll be there." She gave Chang a quick kiss on the cheek before turning to walk down the hall so she could start her rounds.

"I should be getting back too." Chang said "Is there anything else I can do for you before I go?"

"Yeah, I wanna go to the hotel where he was staying. I wanna take a look at his room."

"I told you, I already searched his room and didn't find anything significant."

"No offense, Chang. But you don't know Starsky like I do." Hutch said with a thin smile. "There could be something there you missed or overlooked."

"No offense taken. How about I drop you off there on my way back to the station? But, you'll have to call a cab to bring you back here when you're done."

"I can do that." Hutch said "Thanks."

Fifteen minutes later, Hutch was unlocking the door to the room that Starsky had been renting in the rundown hotel. The shabby room reminded Hutch of some of the places the two detectives had used in the past when they were on a long, boring stakeout. Starsky had always complained about his surroundings. He suffered from a mild case of claustrophobia and hated small, confined spaces. But, Starsky never allowed his phobias to interfere with his ability to do his job. Hutch was the only one who knew just how much small spaces, heights or deep water really bothered the brunet. Starsky had never shared with Hutch the reasons for his particular phobias and Hutch had never asked. After all, Hutch wasn't perfect. He had a few phobias of his own. He didn't care for heights much either and after an incident where he was forcibly addicted to heroin, he hated needles and refused to take anything any stronger than Tylenol for pain.

Hutch sat down on the edge of the bed and tried to think like Starsky. He knew if there was anything in the room that the brunet didn't want anybody to find, it would be well hidden. Hutch shoved himself to his feet and began to systematically search the room, ignoring the more obvious hiding places like under the mattress or taped underneath the dresser drawers. At first his search seemed futile until he reached the closet. Kneeling down on the floor, he rapped at the floorboards with his knuckles. A grin spread across his face when he found a loose floorboard near the back of the tiny wardrobe. Pulling his pocketknife from his jeans, he flipped open the blade and carefully pried up the piece of loose wood.

Hidden in the space between the floor and sub-flooring, he found Starsky's identification and his passport (both under the assumed name of John Reynolds). There was also over a thousand dollars in cash and a wrinkled notebook, the pages inside filled with his partner's distinctive left handed scrawl. Very few people, besides Hutch and Starsky's mother, could read the brunet's handwriting. As Hutch flipped through the page of the notebook, he realized that it was a journal of sorts. Every since Hutch had known Starsky, he had kept a similar journal, a place where he could write down his innermost thoughts when things became too stressful in his life. Hopefully, this one would have the answers to some of Hutch's questions concerning Starsky's mysterious 'death' and reappearance in Viet Nam. Hutch carefully slipped the journal, the other pieces of identification and the cash in his jacket for safekeeping until he got back to his partner's side where he could examine his discoveries without being disturbed.

He fitted the floorboard back in place and examined it closely to make sure nobody else could tell that it had been disturbed. Satisfied, he stood up, glancing briefly at the clothes hanging in the closet. Grabbing the empty duffle bag he had found underneath the bed, he quickly packed all the clothes in the room. If he did have to take Starsky out of the hospital and move him somewhere safe until they could get out of the country, the brunet was going to need his clothes. A faint smile tugged at Hutch's lips as he ran his hands over the faded jeans and tee shirts. He found himself relieved that Starsky's taste in clothes hadn't changed. Although Hutch was slightly taller than Starsky, the brunet could also wear some of Hutch's clothing if the need arose. Grabbing the duffle bag, Hutch went down to the front desk to call a cab to take him back to the hospital.

Twenty minutes later, he was back at his partner's side. Starsky was sleeping, heavily sedated, but without restraints. Hutch sank into a chair beside the bed and sat there drinking in the sight of his best friend and partner, slightly battered and abused with a mind that had slipped away momentarily, but alive. That alone was still almost too much for Hutch to comprehend.

"We're gonna get through this, buddy." He whispered, reaching out to gently brush his fingers against the sunken cheek of his best friend. "Just like we always have…together. Me and Thee." He sighed softly at he looked down at the familiar features that he knew by heart. He hadn't seen Starsky this thin and gaunt since the shooting that came so close to killing him. It had taken months of coaxing and endless bribes of milkshakes and ice cream sundaes, to get him to regain the weight he had lost while he was in the hospital. During his long and painful recovery, his digestive tract had been really messed up from all the damage and there were some foods his system just couldn't tolerate. Before his alleged death in the car accident, he had finally recovered enough to return to his usual diet of burritos with extra onions and hot sauce, pizzas, and root beer.

Hutch settled back in the chair and pulled the items he had found in the hotel room out of his jacket. He examined the identification papers and passport first. They were expertly forged documents, all in the name of John Reynolds. The birth date and physical description matched, the only differences being the name on the documents and the hometown, which was listed as Chicago. Laying the forged documents aside, he opened the journal and stared at the first page without reading it for several minutes, not sure if he wanted to know what he would find in the pages in front of him.

Finally, he decided there was no use putting it off any longer and he began to read. The journal entries began approximately three months after Starsky was supposed to have been killed. Hutch's expression darkened as he read Starsky's account of a visit he had received shortly after receiving the letter stating he had been declared unfit to return to active duty with the police force. It had been from two high ranking military officials who had told the brunet in no uncertain terms that he was being reinstated to active duty with the military. When Starsky had refused to go with them voluntarily, they had left and that evening, while he was sleeping, someone had broken into his apartment and drugged him, forcibly removing him. When he finally regained consciousness, three days later, he was already at a military facility in Viet Nam. It outraged Hutch when he realized that Starsky had literally been kidnapped by the military and taken out of the country against his will.

For the next three months, Starsky was subjected to a rigid regime of drugs and mind control designed to eliminate his free will and make him more receptive to following orders. Hutch couldn't help smiling when he read Starsky's statement that the 'treatment had been less than successful'. Knowing his partners stubborn nature and strong will, Hutch had no doubt that was true. However, Starsky was still basically a prisoner and forced to comply to a certain degree with his captors.

Hutch felt his blood run cold when he read what it was that the military had recruited Starsky to do. They wanted him to become an assassin for the military, to hunt down and kill high ranking Vietnamese officials who had been declared 'war criminals' by the US government. Men who had never been convicted by their own government. Starsky had been singled out as their primary choice because of his military record as an expert marksman and his years of experience on the police force. In the end, Starsky had followed orders but only after discovering that the military had faked his death and that all of his friends and family back home thought he was dead. Although Starsky didn't actually state it in the journal, Hutch suspected that the military may have also used threats against Starsky's family and possibly even Hutch to get him to comply.

Hutch felt his heart break as he continued to read, the pages revealing the slow deterioration of Starsky's mind with each man he tracked down and killed. Killing, even in the line of duty to protect himself or others, had never come easy for the brunet. With each death, a small part of him had died too. In the past few months, Starsky had started taking unnecessary risks and chances, wanting to die to end his own torment and yet unable to voluntarily take his own life. The last entry in the journal had been over two months ago, leaving the last few weeks a blank. But from the level of pain and despair Hutch had already read in the journal, Starsky had been teetering on the edge of a complete breakdown. Hutch hid the journal and other documents deep inside the duffel bag, vowing that nobody would ever see them or read Starsky's most private thoughts. In the eyes of the Vietnamese government, he would be considered a common criminal and they would convict him of his crimes, probably giving him the death penalty without a second thought. Hutch couldn't allow that to happen.

The question remained unanswered as to how Starsky had ended up here and if the overdose had been voluntary or forced upon him by someone else. And if someone else had restrained him and forced him to take the massive overdose that should have killed him, then who had done it? Someone in the Vietnamese government or someone in his own? The answer to that question was locked somewhere in the brunet's mind and that meant that whoever was responsible couldn't take the chance on Starsky surviving the bungled attempt on his life. The fact that Stephanie had mentioned two military men looking for someone fitting Starsky's description gave Hutch his own suspicions as to who was behind everything.


	7. Chapter 7

**TORTURED MIND**

**CHAPTER SEVEN**

Starsky woke up later that evening, his eyes snapping open and looking around the room wildly for a moment before settling back into that blank stare that unnerved Hutch. At least he wasn't repeating that phrase over and over again in Vietnamese like he had been earlier. Hutch longed to reach out and take Starsky's hand offering a measure of comfort to the brunet as well as to himself but he didn't, the memory of how Starsky had reacted earlier when he had been touched still strongly implanted in his mind.

"Come on, Starsky…you gotta help me out here." Hutch said, "I don't know to reach you, pal."

"The same way you always have," a soft voice said from the doorway, startling Hutch badly. He jerked his head around as Stephanie stepped into the room.

"I'm sorry." Hutch apologized "I didn't hear you come in. What did you say?"

"You were saying that you didn't know how to reach him and I said do it the same way you always have…with love." She said as she stepped up to the bed and automatically began taking Starsky's vital signs and assessing his condition. The brunet made a soft whimpering sound deep in his throat and tried to pull away even from her gentle touch.

"Why doesn't he want anyone touching him?" Hutch asked

"He's afraid…the trauma of what he's been through combined with the excessive amount of drugs he was given has altered his thought processes."

**"**So what you're saying is that he's not thinking straight right now."

"To simplify things…yes." Stephanie said with a smile. "Hopefully that's only temporary."

"The other doctor said something about restraints because he got violent." Hutch said, "Did he hurt anyone?"

"Dr. Wang told you that?" Stephanie said, the tone of her voice and the tight smile on her face making it clear that she didn't care much for the other physician or his methods. "Yes, when they transferred him here from the medical floor, he did get very agitated and tried to hit one of the nurses but he didn't hurt her. He was still much too weak. But Doctor Wang tends to medicate his patients to keep them docile and calm so it makes his job easier."

"I made it clear that I didn't want that happening again." Hutch said. He glanced back at Starsky and added, "We had to go undercover one time at a mental hospital back in Bay City and they kept him pretty doped up while he was there. He also almost became a human guinea pig for a doctor that was using mental patients to experiment on."

"Were you both pretending to be patients?" Stephanie asked curiously, always interested in hearing stories about police work.

"No. Starsky was the patient. He fit the part better than I did. I was posing as an orderly."

"He's been through a lot for a relatively young man, hasn't he?"

"That he has. I think he's broken almost every bone in his body at one time or another and had everything else from a sub dermal hematoma to chronic migraines."

"You care for him a lot, don't you?"

"He's my best friend. After he got shot and almost died, I took off work when he got out of the hospital to be his primary caretaker until he recovered enough to take care of himself."

"I could tell just by talking to you that the two of you were close." She glanced back at the brunet "That's what he needs the most right now is somebody here that knows him and really cares about him."

"He's not alone. Not anymore." Hutch said quietly, his eyes softening with affection as he gazed at Starsky's face.

"I have to get back to work." Stephanie said with a smile. "I know he's in good hands now."

Hutch gave her a wide grin as she turned and left the room. Glancing at Starsky, who was still lying passively on the bed with a vacant look on his face, he said, "Hear that, pal? You're in good hands now. I'm here, Starsk…and I'm not going to let anybody hurt you again." He lowered his voice even if there wasn't anyone else in the room to hear him. "I found your journal. I know what you've been through…what they made you do. I know that's not the whole story and I intend to find out exactly what happened and who tried to kill you…and I'll find a way to make sure they pay for it."

An aide came in shortly with two meal trays. Hutch insisted she leave. He would help Starsky feed himself if he needed assistance. She hesitated before doing as he requested. Starsky didn't show any sign of responding when Hutch tried to coax him into eating on his own. When Hutch filled a spoon with some mashed potatoes and held the spoon to his lips, Starsky sniffed at the food and then voluntarily opened his mouth, letting Hutch feed him. The blond smiled to himself. One battle won. Patiently, he fed Starsky his food before turning his attention to his own tray.

Per Hutch's earlier request, the nursing staff had moved a cot into the room and sat it up beside Starsky's bed so Hutch could stay with him since he had made it clear that he wasn't leaving. Based on the evidence he had uncovered so far, Hutch knew it wasn't safe to leave Starsky alone so that left Hutch to guard him. It was a duty that Hutch accepted without question. He had already placed an international call to Captain Dobey to bring him up to date on what he had learned so far. Even though he was thousands of miles away, Dobey assured Hutch that he had the support of the department if he needed anything. The fact that Starsky was still alive was a carefully guarded secret shared only by Hutch, Minnie and Captain Dobey. After hearing what Hutch had to say, Dobey agreed that it was best if it remained that way until further notice. Hutch's primary concern was getting Starsky well enough to get him out of Viet Nam and back to the States as soon as possible.

After eating, Starsky's eyes drifted shut as he fell into a natural slumber that wasn't induced by drugs. When he was asleep, the brunet's face relaxed and he looked more peaceful. Hutch remembered sitting in the hospital after the attack by Gunther just watching Starsky sleep and thanking god that he was still alive. He was even more grateful now since he had gone through hell for the past two years thinking that he'd lost the brunet for good this time.

As Hutch settled down for the night, Starsky began tossing his head back and forth on the pillow, obviously caught up in a nightmare. Starsky had been prone to nightmares ever since Hutch had known him but this nightmare seemed more disturbing than most. Starsky screamed out in his sleep and threw up his hands as if he were fighting off an unseen enemy. Instinctively, Hutch grabbed his hands to keep him from hurting himself. Starsky immediately calmed down, soothed by the sound of Hutch's voice and his loving touch. Somehow, in his sleep he seemed to sense Hutch's presence and felt safe. Hutch couldn't help but take that as an encouraging sign that everything would work out eventually.

Once he was sure that Starsky was resting comfortably, Hutch lay down on the cot and drifted into a light slumber, ever alert for any signs of distress from the brunet lying on the bed. Towards morning, he was awakened when Starsky started mumbling, talking in his sleep, another nocturnal habit he was prone to. He was speaking English but his words seemed confused and disoriented, aimless rambling that didn't make much sense. It sounded like he said someone's name a few times but Hutch couldn't decipher it because Starsky was barely speaking above a whisper. A few soothing words from Hutch was all it took to ease Starsky back into a quiet slumber.


	8. Chapter 8

**TORTURED MIND**

**CHAPTER EIGHT**

Over the next two days, there was some improvement in Starsky's condition but not as much as Hutch hoped to see. He still tensed up when Hutch touched him but didn't jerk away from the big blond like he still did with everyone else. He reluctantly tolerated Hutch's soothing, gentle touch. And he had stopped holding himself and rocking in his chair, chanting the same phrase over and over again in Vietnamese. But, the same blank look lingered in his eyes and he still refused to respond to anyone, even Hutch. The only time he spoke was in his sleep and most of his ramblings still didn't make much sense. But, to Hutch even the smallest sign of improvement was a reason to rejoice.

Hutch was helping Starsky to finish eating his lunch when the door opened and Stephanie came into the room. From the worried expression on her face, Hutch braced himself for bad news. Carefully closing the door behind her, she said,

"Those men from the military base were here looking for 'John Reynolds'." She told him, using the alias that Starsky had been using. "And this time they had a picture of David that they were flashing around." Noting Hutch's alarmed look, she quickly added "Don't worry, nobody told them anything."

"Did they tell you anything?" Hutch demanded

"Their cover story is that he went AWOL from the army base and that they've gotten reports that he might have been hurt and taken to a local hospital."

"I have to get him out of here!" Hutch declared, "He's not safe here or any place in this city!"

"Try to stay calm. I called Chang and he's meeting us in the cafeteria at seven o'clock tonight." Stephanie told him. "We'll figure something out."

"Are you sure they don't know he's here?"

"I'm sure. I talked to them personally and warned the rest of the staff not to tell them anything if they tried talking to them."

"I don't know how to thank you for everything you've done." Hutch said gratefully "If you hadn't been so persistent when he was brought in here, I would never have known he was even still alive."

"It's okay. I knew something wasn't right…it was just a gut feeling."

Hutch smiled faintly and glanced at the brunet lying in the bed. "Yeah, he gets those a lot too. I've learned to listen to those feelings of his over the years."

"I've learned to listen to mine too." Stephanie said with a grin "Even when everybody else teases me about it." She resisted the urge to give the big blond a comforting hug. "I have to go but I'll meet you in the cafeteria at seven tonight."

Hutch nodded absently, turning his full attention back to his partner. "We have to figure out a way to get you out of this damn city, pal…cause I have a feeling the military doesn't have your best interests at heart." He reached out to grasp the limp hand lying on the bed beside Starsky, more for his own comfort than for Starsky's sake. "I wish you'd snap out of this, Gordo. I could really use your help about now."

Hutch caught his breath sharply when he felt the fingers beneath his hand twitch slightly and then curl lightly around his hand. The pressure was barely noticeable but Hutch felt it. He was sure he did. "I know you're in there somewhere, Starsk and I'm not gonna give up until I find a way to reach you." He looked deeply into those sapphire eyes that had always been so expressive, the true windows to Starsky's soul. For a fleeting moment, Hutch was positive that those eyes seemed more alert and then the vacant look settled back on Starsky's face. "Come on, buddy…stay with me." Hutch coaxed but Starsky's face remained impassive and blank, locked away again behind the wall where he had retreated. Hutch sighed wearily but he still took it as a positive sign that Starsky was trying to fight his way back to reality.

Before meeting with Stephanie and Chang in the cafeteria that evening, Hutch made sure that Starsky had eaten his supper and was resting comfortably before leaving the room. He found the pretty doctor and the helpful police detective sitting at a table in the back of the dining room. Hutch grabbed himself a cup of coffee before joining them.

As soon as he sat down, he said, "I have to get Starsky out of here and back to the States."

"I agree." Chang said solemnly "But he may not be any safer there than he is here."

"But it'll be easier to protect him there." Hutch pointed out grimly. "Back there, he has family and friends, not to mention the entire L.A.P.D. behind him."

"Physically, there's no reason why he can't travel." Stephanie said, "Mentally, he's still awfully unstable. I don't think he could handle the stress of going outside the hospital or on a long overseas flight. If he becomes agitated, he could become violent."

"There must be something you could do to make sure that doesn't happen." Hutch said

"I could sedate him heavily enough to keep him out of it until you landed in the States." Stephanie suggested. "And send more medication with you in case you needed it."

"No, I don't want to have to do that." Hutch said insistently. "He's starting to show signs of responding to me…I don't want to do anything to jeopardize that."

"Neither do I." Stephanie said "But to take him out of here in his present condition, you may have to."

"All right." Hutch said regretfully "I'll agree to it but only if we don't have any choice."

"You still have to figure out how to get him out of the country without getting stopped." Chang pointed out. "You can't use your own names to book the flight or the name he's been using either. That means you're both going to need new names and passports."

"I could set it up so you can pose as a doctor with David being your patient." Stephanie said helpfully. "That would avoid you being asked lot of questions if we have to sedate him." She chewed at her bottom lip thoughtfully. "As a matter of fact, I know a doctor who resembles you closely enough that you could probably use his name and passport; we'd just have to switch the picture."

"Do you think he'd help us?" Hutch asked

"I'm sure he would if I told him what was going on." Stephanie said with a smile. "He's helped some other people get out of the country when they needed to. He doesn't agree with the politics of this government…or of yours. I'll talk to him but I can't do that for a couple of days. He's out of town at a medical convention."

"That gives us some time to get a plan together." Hutch said "And make sure we cover all of our bases." He frowned thoughtfully. "The most important thing is keeping Starsky safe until then."

"I think he'll be safe here. I don't think those men will be back anytime soon." Stephanie said. "But if you're worried about it, the two of you could stay at my place until we can make all the arrangements to get you back where you belong."

"What about Doctor Wang?" Hutch growled "He's not going to want to let Starsky just walk out of here."

"You have his medical power of attorney." Chang reminded him "I'll back you up against Wang…although it would probably look better if we convinced the good doctor that you're simply transferring him to another facility and not leaving the country with him."

"Jim can help with that." Stephanie said with a grin. "He's a highly respected psychiatrist and he doesn't like Wang at all." She looked thoughtful. "As a matter of fact it might work even better if Jim agrees to come here to assess David and arrange for a transfer to his facility. That way it won't arouse any suspicions from the rest of the staff when David is released into Jim's care."

"Are you sure your friend will be willing to go that far out on a limb for two strangers?" Hutch asked

"I'm sure he will." Stephanie assured him with a mischievous glint in her eyes. "He's my big brother. I'm sure he'll be just as intrigued by David's situation as I am."

"Keeping it all in the family, huh?" Hutch said with a soft chuckle.

"Something like that." The pretty doctor told him with a chuckle.

"Meanwhile, I'm going to do some snooping around of my own and see if I can find out more about the military's interest in our mutual friend." Chang said.

"I don't know how to thank both of you for everything you've done for us so far." Hutch said sincerely. "I know how much you're both risking by helping us."

"Think nothing of it." Chang said "This has been more intriguing than busting hookers or trying to identify dead bodies."

"Besides," Stephanie told him with a blush. "Something tells me that you two are worth the trouble. I'll call Jim when I get off duty tonight and fill him in on the plan."

Hutch finished his coffee and told his two new friends goodbye, anxious to return to his partner's side. He decided not to call Captain Dobey with the latest developments. He sensed that it would be safer for everyone concerned if nobody else knew about their plans.


	9. Chapter 9

**TORTURED MIND**

**CHAPTER NINE**

Hutch was exhausted but he couldn't seem to fall asleep. He was too worried about keeping Starsky safe. So he sat there in the darkness, keeping watch much the same way he done after Starsky had almost died over two years ago. Now, as then, just watching the gentle rise and fall of the brunet's chest as he breathed was enough to calm the big blond and reassure him that his partner was still alive. When Starsky began mumbling in his sleep again and looked like he was becoming agitated, Hutch quickly reached out to rub the palm of his hand up and down the brunet's arm. "Shhhh…it's okay, Starsk. I'm here. Hutch is here." In his sleep, Starsky's brows drew together in a frown, his head turning towards the sound of Hutch's voice. He exhaled noisily and then slipped back into a deep slumber.

"I know you can hear me, Starsk." Hutch said quietly, leaning down so that he was speaking directly in Starsky's ear. "And sooner or later, you're gonna get tired of hearing me do all the talking and wake up. And I'll be right here waiting for you when you do." Hutch settled back on his cot and closed his eyes, determined to get some sleep of his own.

The aide bringing their breakfast trays awakened him the next morning. Prying open his heavy lids, Hutch shoved himself to the edge of the cot and stood up. "Thank you." He said to the aide in a tone of dismissal as he uncovered the lids on Starsky's breakfast tray while ignoring his own until after his partner was fed. When he held out the spoon for Starsky to feed himself, just like he had done for the past three days, he was surprised when Starsky actually took it and tentatively reached out towards his plate. With baited breath, Hutch watched as Starsky awkwardly spooned up some scrambled eggs and slowly guided the spoon towards his mouth. Some of the eggs spilled on the sheets but most of the food made it into Starsky's mouth.

"Hey, it's about time you stopped being so lazy." Hutch teased him, surprised at the joy he felt at watching Starsky accomplish such a simple task. He had felt the same way during Starsky's long recovery from his shooting whenever the brunet reached another milestone in his struggle to regain his health. Starsky ignored the big blond and continued eating, cleaning his entire tray. He was slow and clumsy but he was feeding himself. Hutch was so absorbed in watching Starsky eat, that his own food was cold by the time he started eating.

After the trays had been taken away, Hutch got a basin of water from the adjoining bathroom, along with a towel and washcloth, intending to help Starsky wash. Starsky let Hutch wash his hands but when the blond tried to wash his face, Starsky jerked away, his eyes wide with fear and his breathing escalating. His hands closed into fists, clutching the sheets almost frantically as he tried to move away from Hutch.

"Hey, hey…" Hutch said soothingly, raising his hands in a gesture of surrender as he tossed the washcloth onto the bedside table. "If you don't want your face washed, I won't wash your face." Hutch watched as Starsky slowly relaxed, his breathing evening out and the fear draining from his face. Remembering what Stephanie had said about the possibility that someone had forced Starsky to take the pills that had nearly killed him, Hutch wondered if that explained his extreme reaction when Hutch got too close to his face. He quickly abandoned the idea of trying to get Starsky to let him help him to wash up. _One step at a time. _Hutch reminded himself somberly _One step at a time._ Although Starsky was starting to show some positive signs of responding to Hutch, he knew that it wouldn't take much to send him tumbling over the edge into the black abyss that was waiting to claim his soul.

When Starsky began squirming around uncomfortably, Hutch lowered the bedrail and arched his brow at Starsky questioningly as he held out a steadying hand to help the brunet to his feet. After a few minutes hesitation, Starsky grabbed Hutch's hand securely and allowed him to help him out of bed. _Another step in the right direction,_ Hutch thought to himself as he helped Starsky into the bathroom to relive himself. When he was finished taking care of business, Starsky paused, a puzzled expression on his face. He raised his hand to his face, rubbing his palm against his smooth, cleanly shaven cheek.

"What's wrong, pal? Did you forget your razor?" Hutch asked in a lightly teasing tone. Stephanie had told Hutch how poor Starsky's personal hygiene had been when he was brought into the emergency room, his face covered with a heavy growth of beard and his dark curls tangled and dirty. That alone told Hutch just how far Starsky's mental state had deteriorated. He had always been almost fastidious about his personal appearance.

He had hated it when Hutch had grown a mustache and let his hair get too long and had nagged him constantly until Hutch finally shaved it off and got a haircut. Starsky's glaze clouded over, slipping back into the same blank stare that Hutch was becoming accustomed to seeing on that rugged face.

Hutch sighed softly, trying not to feel too disappointed, as he helped Starsky over to the chair by the window where the brunet liked to sit during the day. The morning passed quietly with Starsky staring outside while Hutch sat in another chair nearby, quietly reading a book he had bought in the hospital gift shop. After lunch, Starsky seemed restless; his eyes darted nervously around the room, finally settling on Hutch's face. For a brief moment, Hutch was positive he saw a glint of recognition in those remarkable eyes but then it was gone again.

Starsky seemed to get more agitated as the afternoon passed. Finally, he shoved himself out of his chair and began pacing the confines of the small room like a caged animal. Hutch sat back and watched him, not interfering. He'd seen Starsky like this before and knew that his pacing was Starsky's way of working off his nervous energy. Ever since Hutch had known him, Starsky had been hyperactive, so full of energy that it was hard for him to stay still for long. Days of forced confinement tended to aggravate his highly excitable partner no end. Starsky's actions were further proof to Hutch that the old Starsky was locked away somewhere inside this stranger that was currently inhabiting his best friend's body. Finally, Starsky seemed to wear himself out. He lay down on the bed, curling up on his side and closed his eyes. Hutch smiled, thinking how much Starsky reminded him of a mischievous little boy worn out from a hard day of playing when he slept.

When Hutch stood up, stretching to work the kinks out of his shoulders and back, he was positive that he saw Starsky's eyes open just a slit, watching him cautiously as Hutch moved around the room to loosen up his stiff muscles. If he was feigning sleep, Hutch didn't want to let on that he knew Starsky was faking it. He knew that Starsky was starting to trust him and Hutch didn't want to threaten the fragile bond that was beginning to emerge between them again. His hands ached to touch Starsky, to hold him and soothe away his pain and fear. But Starsky still barely tolerated his touch. Too many times, Hutch still felt the barely noticeable trembling when he touched him and knew that it was taking all of the self control that Starsky still possessed to keep from pulling away.

With a grin, Hutch suddenly had an idea. He glanced back at the bed to make sure Starsky was still feigning sleep and left the room. Hurrying down to the cafeteria, he made his purchase and returned to the room. With a flourish, he sat the treat down on the bedside table and waited for Starsky to open his eyes. "Hey, Starsk…" he said quietly "Open your eyes and look what I brought you."

The sapphire eyes flashed open, his lips curving into a genuine grin of pleasure when he saw the ice cream sundae covered with cherries, nuts, and a mixture of chocolate and caramel sauce, topped off with a generous helping of whipped cream. The brunet immediately sat up in bed and reached for his sweet treat. Hutch grinned happily as he sat down in his chair and watched his friend eagerly devouring the sweet confection. Food had always been one of Starsky's passions and Hutch wasn't above using a little old fashioned bribery to draw Starsky out of his shell. After finishing his sundae, Starsky sighed in contentment and favored Hutch with a soft smile. His eyes sparkled with pleasure and for a moment, Hutch was certain that Starsky was alert and oriented. Then the veil dropped over those expressive eyes again, taking Starsky back into the shadows of his own mind.

Hutch sighed softly as he tried to think of other ways to break through the wall that Starsky seemed determined to hide behind. In random moments of weakness, Starsky seemed to let down his guard, seeking some kind of reassurance from Hutch's presence. But whenever Hutch tried to get too close or initiate contact that Starsky wasn't ready for, the wall fell firmly back into place once more. The rest of the day passed without incident with Starsky dozing occasionally. Hutch even managed to get a little sleep himself.

Although there was a television in the room, Hutch ignored it. Most of the programs were in Vietnamese and the ones that were in English were poorly made or several years old. So Hutch spent most of his time reading, sometimes aloud to Starsky, who seemed to be listening even if he didn't seem to be paying attention. Starsky drifted off to sleep fairly early that evening and Hutch soon joined him, exhausted from the long hours of boredom.

At first, Hutch wasn't sure what had awakened him. Then he heard the soft shuffling of rubber soled shoes on the tiled floor. Opening his eyes, he peered through the semi-darkness in the room as a young Vietnamese nurse dressed in a white uniform moved to Starsky's bedside. A soft glow of light from the hallway allowed Hutch to see the hypodermic needle she held in her hand. Instantly alert and alarmed, Hutch jumped to his feet and said sharply, "What in the hell are you doing?"

The woman yelped in surprise and looked at Hutch with wide, frightened eyes. She said something rapidly in Vietnamese but Hutch shook his head unable to understand her. When she reached for Starsky's arm, determined to give Starsky the shot, Hutch reached over the side of the bed and grabbed her wrist tightly to stop her. "NO SHOTS!" Hutch hissed, his eyes narrowing dangerously. Speaking rapidly again in Vietnamese, the young woman tried to pull her hand out of Hutch's grasp. In broken English, she insisted "Must give him shot."

"What's in it?" Hutch demanded, refusing to let go of her hand.

"Make him sleep." the nurse stammered nervously, her eyes darting around the room as if she was searching for someone to come to her aid.

"He's already asleep." Hutch pointed out sharply. "He doesn't need a damn shot to make him sleep!" he tightened his grip until she winced in pain and he could feel the delicate bones grinding together beneath his hand. Pinching the pressure point in the back of her wrist, he heard her gasp as her fingers fluttered open and the needle fell harmlessly to the bed beside Starsky.

Suddenly, the girl turned into a wildcat, struggling to break away from Hutch while screaming wildly. She dug her long sharp nails into the back of his hand making him wince but he refused to let go. With a determined glint in her almond shaped eyes, she bent her head and sank her teeth into the back of his hand.

With a surprised yelp of pain, Hutch released her and cradled his injured hand to his chest. The young woman immediately ran for the door, only to be stopped by the appearance of the night nurse and two orderlies.

"STOP HER! DON'T LET HER LEAVE!" Hutch ordered fiercely. The two orderlies grabbed the woman by her arms and held her captive as she continued to struggle and scream at them in Vietnamese.

Annoyed by the screaming, the nurse snapped in stilted English, "Get her out of here and call security!" As the two men led the still screaming woman away, the nurse quickly moved to Starsky's side to make sure he was unharmed. The brunet was awake, his eyes wide with fear, breathing heavily. He immediately jerked away when the nurse tried to touch him.

"It's okay." Hutch said to the night nurse. "I'll take care of him. He's not hurt; she didn't have time to give him whatever was in the damn needle."

Noticing the needle on the bed, the nurse carefully picked it up with a frown. "He's not scheduled to have any shots. I'll take this down to the lab and have them analyze the contents immediately then I'll call the local police to make a report."

"So that woman doesn't work here?" Hutch said, voicing his own suspicions.

"No, I've never seen her before and I've worked here for eight years."

"Call Detective Chang and Doctor Barnes. Get them both in here right away." Hutch ordered.

"Yes, sir." The nurse said respectfully, hurrying from the room to do as Hutch ordered.

Turning to his highly agitated partner, Hutch lowered his voice and reached out to gently brush a wayward curl back from Starsky's eyes. "It's okay, buddy. You're fine. I told you that I wouldn't let anyone hurt you again." Starsky looked at Hutch, his eyes searching the big blond's face. Finding the reassurance there that he seemed to be seeking, Starsky slowly began to relax, still confused and disoriented from his rude awakening.


	10. Chapter 10

**TORTURED MIND**

**CHAPTER TEN**

"What did you find out?" Hutch demanded as soon as Chang walked into the hospital room. He had been waiting impatiently for news ever since the earlier confrontation with the woman who had tried to hurt Starsky. The brunet was still too disoriented to realize the danger he had been in but he was agitated just the same.

"Her name is Ling Lee and she said that a man said he would pay her a thousand American dollars if she pretended to be a nurse and could get into David's room to give him a shot." Chang explained. "He gave her five hundred dollars and told her he'd give her the other five hundred after the job was done."

"Who paid her?" Hutch snapped, his eyes darkening with anger at the thought that someone had tried to attack his partner again.

"She doesn't know the man's name but she said he was an American solider."

"If the military is behind this whole thing to begin with then why are they trying to kill Starsky now?" Hutch said in an exasperated voice. He glanced at his partner who had finally settled down enough to fall into a light slumber. Hutch had reluctantly agreed to let Stephanie give Starsky a sedative so he could rest.

"He's probably outlived his usefulness to them." Chang said with a sigh. "So he needs to be eliminated to keep him from talking to anyone about his mission. Your government doesn't like 'loose ends' anymore than mine does."

"I have to get him out of here. He's not safe here any longer, not if they know he's here." Hutch declared, beginning to pace the floor restlessly.

"I agree. I can get the two of you to a safe house until we can get you on a plane and out of the country." Chang said. "Stephanie called Jim and he's agreed with our plan. He's coming back tonight, so if everything goes according to plan, we should have you and David on a plane and on your way back to the States in the next day or two."

"How soon can we get out of here?" Hutch asked anxiously. The sooner he got Starsky out of the hospital and immediate danger, the better

"Within the hour." Chang said "We need to keep David sedated in order to move him so he doesn't get agitated when we leave. It would draw unnecessary attention to our departure." Hutch nodded solemnly. He didn't like the idea of keeping Starsky sedated but his safety had to come first. He turned his attention back to the other man who had become a good friend to both of them. "Stephanie should be here shortly. Jim has already notified the hospital that he's taking over David's case and transferring him to his facility."

Hutch crossed to his partner's side and reached down to gently run his fingers down the side of Starsky's face. In his sedated state, Starsky instinctively turned his head into Hutch's touch. Hutch hoped that it wouldn't be long before Starsky responded that positively to Hutch when he was awake. Hutch glanced around the room to make sure he had everything packed and ready to go. He wanted out of this place as soon as possible.

Both men glanced up as the door opened and Stephanie came into the room pushing a wheelchair in front of her. "Ready?" she asked the two men with an arched eyebrow.

"You bet." Hutch said in a relieved voice.

"Good. David's sedated enough that he shouldn't be any trouble until we get to the safe house. Chang, can you and Hutch get him out of bed and into the wheelchair?"

The men moved to do as she instructed. Hutch slipped his arms underneath Starsky's arms and gently raised him into a sitting position in the bed while Chang slid his hands underneath Starsky's knees to lift the unconscious man from the bed. Moving so that he could reposition himself behind his partner, Hutch helped to lift Starsky and settle him back into the wheelchair. Stephanie fastened a seat belt securely around Starsky's waist and smoothed a lap blanket over his legs. Hutch put one hand on Starsky's shoulder and squeezed it gently before taking the handles to push the wheelchair from the room. Chang grabbed Hutch's bag and Starsky's duffle bag, following the big blond and Stephanie into the hallway. The other staff members ignored them as they left the unit, going about their routine chores. Hutch didn't realize that he was holding his breath until they stepped out of the main entrance of the hospital and into the mid-morning sunshine.

Stephanie led the way to an ordinary looking blue van that was parked in the passenger loading zone. Opening the side door, she pushed a control that lowered a wheelchair ramp to the ground. She nodded at Hutch, who pushed the chair onto the ramp and stood behind it, holding it securely as Stephanie raised the ramp until it was level with the edge of the van door. Hutch pushed the wheelchair inside and secured the wheels with the special straps built into the floor before settling into the jump seat just behind the wheelchair. Stephanie and Chang climbed into the front seats with Chang behind the wheel.

Chang started the engine and pulled the van into the drive, keeping a close eye in his rearview mirror to make sure he wasn't being followed. Seeing nothing suspicious, he drove to the end of the drive and turned left, heading into the busy city streets. He drove for almost an hour, taking several turns to make sure nobody was trying to tail him, before finally driving to a small nondescript house on the east side of Saigon. Pulling into the drive, he drove into the attached garage so the van wouldn't be seen from the street.

Once the garage doors were shut securely behind them, Chang and Stephanie got out and Stephanie opened the side door, unfolding the wheelchair ramp. She waited until Hutch had Starsky securely in place before pressing the button to lower it to the ground. Starsky was still unconscious but he was starting to show the early signs of waking up. Hutch pushed the wheelchair into the house behind Chang and Stephanie.

The interior of the house was one large open floor plan with a kitchen area on one side of the room and a double bed pushed against the wall on the opposite side with a sofa and recliner arranged tastefully in the middle of the room. Hutch easily transferred Starsky's limp body from the wheelchair to the recliner, plumping a pillow behind his head and making him comfortable. While he tended to his partner, Stephanie went into the kitchen to make them some coffee and food, while Chang got their bags out of the van. Chang would be staying with Starsky and Hutch until they were safely on board the plane that would take them home while Stephanie would be returning to her regular duties at the hospital. Taking every precaution possible, Chang had told no one where he was. He had taken vacation days and told his superiors that he was going out of town for a few days. The house was a rental unit owned by Chang's parents that was conveniently vacant at the moment.

By the time Stephanie had a light lunch prepared, Starsky was waking up. Hutch knelt beside the recliner so that he was directly in his friend's line of vision and quietly coaxed him to open his eyes. Starsky slowly did as Hutch asked blinking a few times as the cobwebs cleared from his mind. His gaze settled on Hutch's face and he smiled faintly in recognition. Although he was responding more and more to Hutch, he still wouldn't talk and his eyes often reverted back to that blank, unfocused gaze. Suddenly, Starsky's head jerked sharply and his eyes swept around the room in alarm as he realized that he was no longer in the familiar surroundings of the hospital.

"It's okay, pal." Hutch told him quietly, reaching out to rub the back of Starsky's left hand encouragingly. "You're safe. We're just gonna be staying here for a couple of days until we go back home."

Starsky turned his gaze back on Hutch, his brows pulling together in a puzzled frown as he tried to decipher Hutch's words. Without making a sound, his lips slowly formed the word _"Home?"_

"Yeah, buddy…" Hutch said, fighting back the tears that suddenly stung his eyes. "We're going home." He watched as a fleeting smile tugged at Starsky's lips. The brunet leaned his head back against the recliner and closed his eyes, slipping back into a gentle slumber.

"He's definitely responding to you more and more." Stephanie observed with a smile. "I don't think it'll be long before he's talking."

"I hope so." Hutch said with a heavy sigh "I never thought I'd miss the sound of his voice so much."

"He's been through a lot." Stephanie said, gently running her fingers through Starsky's thick dark curls. "He had to feel safe again and secure before he could begin to respond. It may not seem like it, but he does know you and he knows you're here. And that was what he needed to fight his way back."

"So you think he's going to be okay?" Hutch asked

"Yes, I do. It's still going to take some time and a lot of support on your part, but he's definitely on his way back." Stephanie reassured him. Hutch smiled, gazing at his partner with an unabashed look of love on his face. He knew she was right, he felt it, but he still needed to hear her say it.


	11. Chapter 11

**TORTURED MIND**

**CHAPTER ELEVEN**

When it was time to turn in for the evening, Chang insisted on taking the couch leaving the bed for Hutch and Starsky to share. It wasn't the first time the big blond had shared a bed with his partner, usually after they both had too much to drink to drive home or were just too exhausted. But, Hutch had never imagined sharing a bed with Starsky under the bizarre circumstances he found himself in now. Hutch had to smile when Starsky cuddled up against him in his sleep, wrapping one arm loosely around the blond's waist. Starsky had always touched Hutch so freely and, over the years, Hutch had come to need and crave that touch. He didn't realize just how much he had missed it in the past two years until now. He yearned for Starsky to share that touch just as freely when he was awake as he still did in his sleep.

Hutch had always envied Starsky's uncanny ability to fall asleep no matter where he was, even in the cramped front seat of the car during a long boring stakeout. Sleep never came that easily to Hutch. After tossing restlessly for a couple of hours, he finally fell into an uneasy slumber, still sub-consciously tuned in to his partner's presence and ready to respond at the first sign of any distress on Starsky's part.

The nightmares came in the early morning hours. Soft cries and twisting limbs awakened Hutch immediately. Starsky had been plagued with nightmares ever since Hutch had known him, the demons hidden deep inside the brunet's soul coming out to haunt him during the night. Over the years, the dreams had occurred less frequently but Hutch hadn't forgotten how to recognize the signs. Instinctively, he reached out and folded his arms around the whimpering brunet, holding him close as he crooned soft loving words, trying to coax Starsky awake without startling him.

"Hutchhhhhhhhh…" Starsky cried out in his sleep, his voice sounding so broken and forlorn that it tore at the sensitive blond's heart. He found himself wondering how many other times Starsky had cried out for him during a nightmare in the past two years, reaching out for help that was always just beyond his reach. Hutch rubbed his hands up and down Starsky's arms, all the while continuing to talk to him quietly, trying to reassure him and awaken him.

Starsky's eyes flew open with a suddenness that startled Hutch momentarily. The sapphire eyes were filled with terror as Starsky's hands reached out and tried to push Hutch away. Hutch just held on tighter, refusing to let go of his frightened friend. "Relax, babe…" he said soothingly. "You're okay, Starsk…you're okay. It's just a dream…just a dream."

Starsky continued to struggle, trying to pull away from Hutch, but he was weak from his recent ordeal and his efforts were futile. Hutch easily controlled him preventing Starsky from escaping his embrace. Finally, Hutch's calming voice began to get through the terror that clouded the brunet's mind and Starsky slowly started to relax. His body went limp in Hutch's arms and his head leaned forward to rest against his friend's broad chest. He mumbled something unintelligible, his words muffled against Hutch's body.

"You okay now, babe?" Hutch whispered, raising one hand to gently run his fingers through the thick dark curls, a familiar gesture that had always been comforting to both men. "You're safe now. Try to go back to sleep. I'm right here and I'm not gonna let you go." Within minutes, Starsky's breathing deepened and evened out as he fell back into a peaceful sleep. Hutch kept his arms securely wrapped around his partner as he stared into the darkness, waiting for morning to come. He felt unshed tears burning his eyes as he desperately searched his mind for a way to reach his tormented friend. It seemed that for every slow painful step that Starsky took forward, he continued to take two steps back.

Finally, Hutch saw the first faint rays of the rising sun peeping through the windows, casting a soft glow into the corners of the room. He heard Chang shifting positions on the sofa. Hutch closed his eyes and feigned sleep, wanting a few more precious minutes alone with his thoughts and his partner. He heard Chang getting up and going into the bathroom to go about his morning routine. Hutch lay there until the aroma of freshly brewed coffee began to fill the air and an urgent message from his bladder forced him to take action. As he shifted positions, preparing to get up, he noticed that Starsky was awake, those deep blue eyes staring at him intently, almost as if the brunet were looking into the depths of his very soul. Starsky's gaze was steady; his eyes clear and alert giving Hutch a false sense of hope until he saw that light fade from those expressive eyes, replaced by the blank, unfocused stare.

"Damn it, Starsk!" Hutch hissed in a frustrated voice as he watched his partner slipping away from him again. "Don't do this to me! Stick with me here!"

"What's wrong?" Chang's voice asked in a concerned tone.

"He was with me for a minute there," Hutch said in a discouraged voice "Then he just faded out again.

"Maybe it's still safer behind that wall." Chang suggested "As long as he stays there, he doesn't have to deal with the memories of the things he's done…the man he's become." Chang paused and then added gently "And he doesn't have to face you."

"Me?" Hutch exclaimed in a startled tone. "Why would he be afraid to face me? He's my best friend."

"Don't get me wrong," Chang said calmly, undisturbed by the hint of anger in Hutch's voice. "I believe that you being here is what's pulling him back to reality but you're also part of what's keeping him behind that wall he's built around himself and his emotions. He's afraid to see himself through your eyes…to see the monster he believes he has become."

"He has to know that I'd never blame him for what's happened." Hutch insisted

"I'm sure that there's a part of him that knows that…but he's still afraid. He needs your support more than he ever has before…without it, he has no reason to keep fighting."

"I won't give up on him, now or ever." Hutch declared "Whatever it takes, however long it takes, I'm in this with him all the way."

"He knows that. Just give him some more time." Chang suggested quietly, disappearing back into the kitchen to finish breakfast.

Hutch started when he felt long, slender fingers wrapping around his wrist. He turned his head to find Starsky looking at him again with a puzzled frown on his face, his hand gripping Hutch's wrist tightly. It was the first time that Starsky had initiated contact on his own, another positive sign, another tiny step in the right direction. Hutch smiled fondly and put his free hand over Starsky's, rubbing comfortingly. After a moment of indecision, Starsky gave Hutch a shy smile in response.

"Come on, pal. Breakfast is almost ready." Hutch said, easing himself off the bed and taking Starsky's arm to help the brunet to his feet. They joined Chang in the tiny kitchen area and took seats at the table. Hutch automatically took the chair on Starsky's right, knowing from experience that kept them from bumping elbows when they ate since Starsky was left handed and Hutch used his right hand.

Starsky had improved enough that he could care for his personal needs and feed himself without verbal prompting. But, it was still disheartening to watch him do it all in an eerie silence. The old Starsky was seldom quiet, spouting trivia and odd facts as part of his normal everyday conversations. Hutch couldn't help smiling as he watched Starsky eat, grateful that his appetite seemed to have returned to normal. Maybe now he would put back on some of the weight he had lost. Hutch made a silent promise to let Starsky have all the junk food he wanted when they got back home without complaining.

After breakfast, Hutch sent Starsky into the bathroom to shower while he helped Chang clean up the kitchen. When Starsky came out dressed in his familiar faded jeans and a tee shirt, his curls still wet from his shower, Hutch smiled at the reassuring image of the man he remembered in his heart. He carefully settled Starsky into the recliner and grabbed the morning newspaper. Thankfully it was one that was printed in English. He began to read aloud, sharing interesting bits of news with his silent partner.

Later that evening, Stephanie stopped by. She was accompanied by her brother, Jim. Introductions were made and Hutch shook the other man's hand enthusiastically. There was a remarkable resemblance between the two men. They were both tall, over six feet, with a lean muscular build, blue eyes and blond hair. Hutch's eyes were a lighter blue and his hair more blond but the physical resemblance was close enough that once the fake passport was done, he could easily pass for the other man. Since he had also attended medical school for a year before dropping out to join the police academy, Hutch also knew enough of the proper medical terminology to get by if the need arose while he was posing as the doctor.

Hutch and Jim got acquainted and then spent the rest of the evening discussing the cover story that Hutch would be using to get Starsky safely onto the plane and out of the country. Hutch reluctantly agreed to have Starsky sedated only because he didn't want to cause Starsky any undue stress during the long international flight back to the States. Jim had contacted a friend in the States who was sending forged transfer papers for Starsky to make it appear that he was being transferred to a facility there. His documents were all in the name of Robert Preston and he was supposedly a paranoid Schizophrenic with suicidal tendencies.

Stephanie explained that she was going to be sedating Starsky with a drug that wouldn't knock him out but would keep him calm and passive during the flight. Hutch thanked them both for their help, grateful to them for being so willing to help two men they barely knew get out of this country and back to their own. Before they left for the evening, Chang and Stephanie slipped outside to spend some quiet time together, leaving Jim and Hutch to talk among themselves.

"You know, your friend may not be safe even back in the States if the military really wants to get rid of him." Jim said somberly. "You'll have to be very careful and watch your back and his too."

"Don't worry, I will." Hutch reassured him "I'm not going to let anyone hurt him again, not if I can help it."

"He's lucky to have a friend like you. Too many people would have given up on him two years ago when they thought he was dead."

"I could never give up on Starsky. Even when he was supposed to be dead, I never 'felt' like he was really gone." Hutch admitted "There was a part of me that could still 'feel' him. I just wished I'd gone with my instincts and tried harder to find him before now."

"There's no way that you could have known what was going on or that he was here in Saigon. The military went to great lengths to set this whole thing up and if they had succeeded in killing him, nobody would ever have known the truth." Jim pointed out.

"I can't believe that everyone in the military was involved in this." Hutch said voicing his own suspicions. "I think it was just a select few behind this whole thing and they'd better pray that I never find out who they are."

"I believe you're right. And I'd say that they're more worried about what will happen to them if this whole mess comes to light. And that makes it even more imperative for them to keep your friend from telling anyone what he knows. That makes him expendable to them."

"He's never going to be safe unless I find out who's behind this whole thing and make sure they pay for it." Hutch said grimly.

"Unfortunately, I agree. They won't think twice about taking you out too if you get in their way."

"Won't be the first time either one of us has had the big guns after us." Hutch said with a thin smile. "And I doubt if it will be the last."


	12. Chapter 12

**TORTURED MIND**

**CHAPTER TWELVE**

The airport was crowded with both American tourists and Vietnamese travelers. Hutch peered through the dark glasses he was wearing, alert to any sign of danger, as he pushed the wheelchair to the check-in area. Starsky sat passively in the chair, drowsy from the sedation Stephanie had given him before they left the house. His head hung forward, his chin resting against his chest, blinking as he tried to keep his heavy eyelids open. The drugs were keeping him calm in spite of the noise of the crowd surging around them.

Stepping up to the counter, Hutch handed the woman on duty his ticket and Starsky's, waiting patiently as she used her computer terminal to confirm their reservations. With a bright smile, she handed the tickets back to Hutch and said,

"Your flight will be departing on time, Doctor. You can wait in the lounge and board immediately as soon as the stewardess makes the announcement."

"Thank you." Hutch said, turning and pushing the wheelchair towards the nearby lounge area. He chose two seats sitting slightly apart from the others, not wanting to draw any unnecessary attention to himself or Starsky. So far things were going according to plan much to Hutch's relief. The sooner they were safely on the plane and in the air, the better he would feel. All he wanted to do was to get himself and his partner out of this godforsaken county as soon as possible.

Glancing around the busy terminal, Hutch caught his breath when he saw two uniformed military officers talking to the woman at the ticket counter. The woman looked at something that they handed her and then shook her head with a pleasant smile. Hutch exhaled slowly, his racing heart starting to calm, as the men walked away, heading to another ticket counter on the far side of the room. He bounced to his feet when the announcement came over the speakers that his flight was ready to start boarding.

To avoid suspicion, the reservations had been made for a flight to Paris from Viet Nam where they would catch a connecting flight to New York City. They would also be traveling in the first class section instead of coach. Hutch pushed Starsky onto the plane and to their assigned seats at the front of the aircraft which were reserved for passengers who were in wheelchairs or otherwise disabled. Hutch knelt down and deftly fastened the safety straps around the wheels of the wheelchair to secure it in place.

Taking his seat beside his friend, he smiled and reached out to clasp Starsky's shoulder encouragingly. In a soft voice he said, "Hang in there, pal. We're on our way home." Starsky didn't reply but then Hutch didn't really expect him to. He was getting used to doing all the talking. He listened to the pre-flight instructions with half an ear, leaning his head back against the seat and closing his eyes. He didn't realize how anxious he had been until the adrenaline began to drain from his system, leaving him more exhausted then he would have thought possible. By the time the plane lifted into the air, he was sleeping peacefully. Beside him, Starsky was doing the same.

Hutch opened his eyes when the pilot announced that they would be landing in Paris in ten minutes, surprised that he had slept for most of the flight. He glanced at Starsky, who still appeared to be sleeping quietly. Stephanie had given him enough sedation for the first leg of their trip. Hutch had more in his carry-on bag for the rest of their journey. They had a two hour layover in Paris before boarding the plane that would take them across the ocean and back to the United States.

When the plane landed, Hutch wheeled a more alert Starsky into the Paris terminal. It was almost as crowded as the one in Viet Nam had been but with a wider mix of nationalities and international travelers. Hutch found a quiet place in the back of the waiting area for them to sit. He got two soft drinks out of a vending machine, opening one for Starsky and handing it to him. Starsky gave him a grateful smile as he took a long deep swallow. Although his eyes still seemed a bit unfocused from the sedation, Starsky seemed more alert and oriented than usual. In the past twenty-four hours, Hutch had noticed that Starsky's periods of alertness and awareness seemed to be lasting longer even though he still wasn't talking except in his sleep.

Shortly before their plane was due to start boarding, Hutch opened the carry-on bag and rummaged through it for the bottle of pills Stephanie had given him for the flight. He frowned when he saw an unfamiliar manila envelope stuffed in the bag. Curious, he pulled it out and opened the flap, pulling out a brief note from Chang.

"_Just thought you might like some 'light reading' for your flight. Don't ask how I got this information just use it to protect yourself and David. Call me when you get back to the States so we'll know all went well. Chang"_

Although Hutch would have liked to examine the contents of the envelope, he decided this wasn't the time or the place. He would wait until they were safely in the air and on their way home. He dug through the bag until he found the pills and popped the lid, shaking three pills out into the palm of his hand. "Here, Buddy…I need you to take these before we get on the plane." Hutch said, holding out the palm of his hand to show Starsky the pills. "Open up." He instructed. Obediently, Starsky opened his mouth and let Hutch put the pills on his tongue. He drank the rest of his soda to wash them down.

By the time they boarded the plane, the pills were kicking in, making Starsky drowsy and limp. Once Hutch was positive that Starsky was out for the count, Hutch opened the carry-on bag and pulled out the mysterious envelope Chang had slipped into his bag. He pulled out a thick sheaf of papers, immediately noting that they were stamped _'Property of Major Anthony Lewis, United States Army. Confidential and Private' _Consumed with curiosity, Hutch began to read. As he read, he felt the cold rage building inside of him as he learned more about Starsky's captivity and brainwashing.

By the time he finished reading the documents, he knew that Starsky had never actually been returned to active duty in the Army. That was just part of the elaborate ruse that had been thought up by Major Lewis and two other high ranking military officers. He also learned that Major Lewis had used his military connections to falsify the doctor's reports to the police department that had resulted in Starsky being forced out on a permanent disability. The brunet's lung capacity was actually ninety-six percent, good enough to qualify him for reinstatement on the force.

Hutch had also been right about threats being used against Starsky's family and Hutch to keep the hotheaded brunet under control, along with a variety of powerful drugs and brainwashing techniques. Every attempt had been made to eradicate the man Starsky used to be and make him into what they wanted him to become. Their efforts had only been partially successful. Starsky had managed to retain his stubborn willfulness and his disregard for authority.

In the end, Major Lewis was solely responsible for the decision to eliminate Starsky when he became too dangerous for them to control. There was an entire report detailing the faked suicide attempt that was meant to end Starsky's life. The papers were a virtual powder keg that named names and gave Hutch vital information on the key players. Hutch had to decide the best way to use the information he now had in his possession. He knew that the only way he could make sure Starsky would be truly safe was to blow the whole dirty operation wide open. Hutch had few connections of his own in high places and he intended to make use of them as soon as they got back to the States. Hutch stuffed the papers back into the envelope and tucked it safely back into his bag. The whole scenario left a bad taste in Hutch's mouth and made him sick to his stomach.

Sighing deeply, Hutch turned his head to check on his partner who was still sleeping soundly. He would do everything in his power to protect the man at his side, even die for him if necessary. As soon as they landed in New York, Hutch decided that he would call Captain Dobey and fill him in on the latest developments. For the time being, he would ask Dobey to arrange a 'safe house' for them to stay at until Starsky was stronger and his mental status more stable. Hutch hoped that being back in Bay City and more familiar surroundings would help.

About two hours before the plane was due to land in New York, Starsky woke up and began to get restless and agitated. Hutch decided not to sedate him again. He wanted to see just how well Starsky could cope with the changes in his environment. Hutch rested a reassuring hand on the brunet's arm, talking to him quietly until he relaxed. Those expressive sapphire eyes locked on Hutch's ice blue gaze, the expression on Starsky's face one of recognition and complete trust. For the moment, Hutch knew in his heart that his partner was back with him where he belonged. The big blond found himself praying that this time it would last and Starsky wouldn't retreat back into that world of shadows where he had been hiding for so long.


	13. Chapter 13

**TORTURED MIND**

**CHAPTER THIRTEEN**

The plane landed in New York without incident and Starsky let Hutch guide him through the busy, noisy terminal. They would be staying in the city for two days before catching a plane to the west coast and home. Hutch had never been more relieved to set foot on American soil again. Hutch hailed a cab and told the driver to take them to the closest mid-priced motel.

As the driver pulled into the busy New York streets, Starsky looked around, an intense look of concentration on his face. Reaching over to grasp his leg, Hutch said happily, "We're home, buddy. We're in New York." Starsky turned to look at Hutch, cocking his head to one side with a familiar crooked smile that made Hutch's stomach flutter with excitement. Hutch sensed that Starsky was alert and oriented, even if he still insisted on remaining silent.

At the motel, Hutch checked them in still using the aliases they had been traveling under. They would return to their own identities once they were safely home in Bay City.

Once they were settled in their room, Hutch turned the television onto a local channel for Starsky to watch while he ordered some food from room service. He planned on turning in early, the jet lag was starting to catch up with him. He knew that Starsky had to be feeling it too but he knew that the brunet would never complain even if he felt like talking.

Grabbing one of their suitcases, Hutch put it on the bed and unsnapped the lid. Opening it, he dug underneath the clothes inside until he found his gun and shoulder harness. Slipping on the holster, he fastened it in place and picked up the magnum, savoring the familiar weight of the weapon in his hand once more. After checking to make sure the safety was on and that the chamber was full, he slid the gun into the holster so that it nestled snuggly beneath his left armpit. Although he had no jurisdiction in New York City, Hutch wasn't going to be caught unarmed now that they were back in the States. His police ID was tucked safely in his wallet and in the bottom of the suitcase rested another thin leather case containing Starsky's police ID and badge. Hutch had found it in Starsky's apartment shortly after his alleged death and he had cherished it ever since.

"Hey, Starsk…you hungry?" Hutch asked "I ordered us some steaks from room service." He smiled indulgently at his friend, who appeared to be engrossed in an old monster movie on TV. Some things never changed.

After the two men had eaten their food, Hutch told Starsky he was going to take a shower and turn in. Starsky nodded to show Hutch that he understood and returned his attention to another old movie playing on the TV. Hutch removed his holster and laid the weapon down on the nightstand as he went into the bathroom to take care of business. After a long, soothing shower, he was barely able to keep his eyes open. Drying off briskly, he pulled on a pair of pajama bottoms and went back into the other room. He climbed under the covers and closed his eyes, falling asleep almost instantly.

He awoke the next morning to find Starsky cuddled up next to him, still dressed and sleeping soundly. Hutch smiled at the peaceful look on Starsky's face, the deep lines that had been etched on his face in Viet Nam less noticeable now. Hutch eased out of the bed, careful not to disturb his friend and lifted the phone to order breakfast from room service. Once that was out of the way, he put a call in to Captain Dobey, calling him at home since it was too early for him to be in the office yet.

"Hey, Cap." He said when he heard the familiar rumbling voice of his superior officer.

"Hutch!" Dobey said "Where are you? What's going on?"

"We're in New York. We'll be flying home tomorrow morning on United flight 53. We should arrive in L.A. around two in the afternoon."

"I'll pick you up."

"Thanks. I'd appreciate that. Did you find a place for us to stay until Starsky's better?"

"Yes. It belongs to a friend of mine who said you could use it as long as you need to. How's Starsky doing?"

"Better." Hutch said, unable to contain the happy grin that crossed his face. "He's alert and oriented, even if he isn't talking yet."

"That's terrific news. I was worried about the two of you."

"I have some more information on what happened to Starsky but I don't want to share it over the phone. I'll tell you tomorrow when we see you."

"You be careful and watch your back." Dobey advised "You two have given me enough gray hairs to last a lifetime…especially that partner of yours."

"I'll be careful." Hutch promised with a soft chuckle. "See you tomorrow." Hutch hung up without saying goodbye and turned to glance at his partner, who was showing signs of waking up. When those thick dark lashes fluttered and Starsky's eyes slowly opened, Hutch was relieved to see that his gaze was still alert and clear. He hadn't retreated back behind that impenetrable wall while he slept.

The two men enjoyed a leisurely breakfast of pancakes, bacon and scrambled eggs and then spent the rest of the day in the motel room. Starsky watched TV while Hutch made several phone calls. One was to the airlines to confirm their reservations the next morning and one was to Chang to let him know that they had arrived safely back in the United States. Hutch knew that there was no way he could ever repay the oriental detective and his physician girlfriend for helping to reunite him with his best friend and partner. Chang promised to tell Stephanie that Starsky was more alert and oriented now that they were back home. The third phone call was to their good friend, Huggy Bear, to tell him the news that Starsky was still alive and well. To say that he was shocked was putting it mildly. Hutch had to move the receiver away from his ear to protect his eardrum from Huggy's enthusiastic yell of glee. Hutch promised to contact him once they were back in Bay City so Huggy could be properly reunited with his two closest friends.

Although Huggy was bursting with questions, he knew not to ask. Hutch would give him the answers he needed when it was time.

Hutch tried in vain to coax Starsky into talking throughout the day but the brunet simply smiled and shook his head, a trace of sadness lingering in his eyes. Hutch knew when to push and when to back off. It was time to back off. Starsky would talk when he was ready to and not before. Hutch didn't want to take a chance on pushing him away again. Not when he was making such good progress at regaining his mental health.

Hutch lounged on the bed, reading, stealing fond glances at Starsky throughout the afternoon and evening, grateful to have the brunet back at his side where he belonged. The hole in Hutch's heart was slowing mending as the missing part of his soul became stronger and more like the old Starsky with each hour that passed. Like the night before, they both turned in early so they could catch their flight the next morning.

Hutch started awake sometime during the night, unsure what had awakened him. He sat up, staring into the darkness, the room illuminated only by the soft light coming from the partially open bathroom door. His heart rate accelerated when he realized that Starsky wasn't in the bed beside him. Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he walked towards the bathroom and reached out to push open the door the rest of the way.

The sight that meant his eyes made him gasp in surprise and horror. Starsky was sitting on the bathroom floor, his legs splayed out in front of him. Starsky's journal, which had been in Hutch's suitcase, was lying on the tile floor, the pages torn out in a fit of rage and crumbled into balls of paper. The manila envelope with the damning information from Chang lay beside Starsky, the pages ripped into pieces. But what alarmed Hutch the most was the razor blade that Starsky was holding in his left hand, poised over his right wrist. His arm already bore several thin hesitation marks as Starsky tried to work up the courage to make the lethal slash.

"Starsky? Buddy…" Hutch said quietly, trying to keep his voice calm and level even though his heart was pounding frantically in his chest. "You don't wanna do this. Okay? Not now…not like this." Starsky ignored Hutch, moving the deadly blade closer to his wrist. "Starsky, please…don't do this. I need you…don't leave me again or I'm going with you this time."

His heartfelt words seemed to register in Starsky's tortured mind. He turned to look at the big blond, his deep blue eyes shimmering with unshed tears. In a hoarse, barely audible voice, Starsky said, "You should have let me die over there, Hutch. We'd have both been better off."

"You don't mean that, babe," Hutch said breathlessly, keeping a close eye on the hand that still held the blade. Starsky's arm was bleeding but not badly, the hesitation cuts weren't that deep. But the hand that held the blade was steady and Starsky seemed determined to make the final cut. Hutch knew he had to find a way to reach him, to stop him before it was too late. "Please, Starsky" he pleaded as he slowly edged closer to his distraught and traumatized friend. "Give me the razor blade and let me take care of your arm."

"Nooooooo…" Starsky cried his voice the wavering sound of a soul in torment. "Just let me die! I want it to be over with…"

"I can't do that, Starsk." Hutch said, inching another step closer until he was able to kneel down on the tile floor beside his friend. "I love you too much to let you go again. If you do this, then I'll be right behind you because I can't go on living without you anymore." Hutch held his breath waiting for Starsky to make a decision.

Starsky cried out, a ragged soul wrenching sound filled with pain, as he looked into those ice blue eyes and saw the truth in Hutch's words reflected there. In a sudden, unanticipated move, the hand holding the blade viciously slashed down towards his wrist as Starsky's screams filled the tiny room.


	14. Chapter 14

**TORTURED MIND**

**CHAPTER FOURTEEN**

Hutch grabbed for Starsky's right wrist even as Starsky slashed at his flesh with the deadly blade. The blond cried out in pain as the razor sliced into the back of his hand instead of Starsky's arm. With his free hand, he grabbed the hand holding the blade and pressed his thumb against the pressure point, forcing Starsky to drop the razor to the tile floor. Ignoring his own injury, he wrapped the brunet in his arms and pulled him into a tight embrace.

Starsky collapsed against his partner and began to sob, deep heart wrenching sobs torn from the very core of his being. "Shhh…." Hutch whispered gently "I got ya, babe…I got ya." He rocked back and forth on his heels, comforting his best friend as Starsky finally released the terror and the pain of the past two years. It was a long time before Starsky finally quieted and relaxed against Hutch, emotionally drained from his outburst.

"I need to get some stuff to fix your arm, buddy." Hutch said softly "Just sit tight for a minute, okay?" He eased Starsky back against the tub and stood up, for the first time noticing the deep gash in the back of his own hand. It was bleeding heavily and hurt like hell but Hutch wasn't concerned about himself, he was more worried about Starsky and his current state of mind.

Stepping to the sink, Hutch turned on the cold water and rinsed off his own hand, hissing with pain. Opening the medicine cabinet with his uninjured hand, he found an opened bottle of peroxide but nothing more usual than that. Working with his good hand, he opened the peroxide and poured some over the back of his injured hand, a muffled curse escaping from his tightly drawn lips as the antiseptic foamed up cleaning the wound.

Holding his injured hand against his chest, he went into the other room and grabbed his shaving kit from his suitcase. Hutch believed in always being prepared for anything, so besides his personal hygiene items, he always carried emergency supplies with him in case he needed them. He hurried back into the bathroom and knelt beside Starsky, pausing only long enough to wrap his own injured hand tightly before turning his attention to his friend.

He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that the wounds on Starsky's right wrist and forearm weren't that serious. He carefully cleaned the cuts and bandaged them. Starsky sat passively, watching as Hutch tended to his wounds. When he had finished, Hutch slipped an arm around Starsky's waist and pulled the brunet to his feet. Starsky allowed Hutch to lead him back into the bedroom and settle him down on the bed.

Sitting on the edge of the bed beside him, Hutch reached out and ran his fingers through Starsky's thick dark curls. In a quiet, gentle voice he said, "How are you feeling?"

"I'm okay." Starsky mumbled, turning his head to avoid looking into his partner's concerned eyes.

"Don't ever do anything like that again, pal. Okay?" Hutch said in a shaky voice that betrayed his own emotional distress. Now that the crisis was over, Hutch's emotions were overwhelming the sensitive blond.

"I'm sorry, Hutch." Starsky said, turning his head back to look at his friend, his sapphire eyes shimmering with unshed tears. For the first time, he noticed Hutch's bandaged hand. "What happened?" he asked in a worried voice. "Did I hurt you?"

"It's nothing." Hutch said evasively "Just a little cut."

"I'm sorry, Blondie." Starsky said, the tears falling freely from his eyes, his own emotions dangerously close to the edge. He choked back a sob and blinked back his tears. "I…I wanna die, Hutch. I should have died over there the first time. I should never have made it home."

"Stop talking like that!" Hutch demanded sharply. "You're not gonna die, pal. Not today or anytime soon! I'm not going to let you!"

"You gonna watch me twenty-four hours a day, Blintz?" Starsky said with a rueful smile. "You can't stop me forever."

"No, but I can stop you for now and that's enough." Hutch said firmly. He reached out and grabbed Starsky's chin in his hand, looking deeply into those dark blue eyes. "I've already found out what it feels like to think you're dead. I can't go through that again! I won't!" His voice was low and quiet but filled with a steely determination.

"So if I die, you die too. Is that it?" Starsky asked with a trace of bitterness and resignation in his voice.

"You got it, buddy." Hutch said gravely. "Cause I don't have a life without you…at least not one worth living." He sighed heavily and stretched out on the bed beside his friend. Almost instinctively, Starsky moved closer to cuddle up against Hutch's side, resting his head on the blond's shoulder. It was the only place he had ever truly felt safe, at his partner's side.

"It hurts, Hutch…" he whimpered "It hurts so damned much."

"I know it does." Hutch whispered, slipping his arms around the smaller man's shoulders and holding him close to his heart. "But I'm here now and we'll get through this together…me and thee, remember?"

"They forced me to kill people, Hutch…people they judged and found guilty of war crimes."

"I know…"

"They used me." Starsky said in a broken voice. "They lied to me! They took everything away from me that meant anything! My job…my life…you…"

"I know they did and they're gonna pay for that. I promise." Hutch said his voice as cold as ice.

"They won't just go away, Hutch." Starsky said somberly "They want me dead and now they're going to have to kill you too for helping me."

"We're not dead yet, pal." Hutch said with a faint smile. "Those documents are enough to hang the bastards. All we have to do is make sure they get into the right hands."

"It still won't make it go away." Starsky said sadly. "It won't undo what they made me do. People are still dead, Hutch and I'm the one who killed them."

"Shhhhh…" Hutch said soothingly. "You need to rest, we both do. We can talk about this when we get back home."

"Hutch…I'm scared." Starsky admitted, his voice colored with shame at his admission.

"I know." Hutch said, brushing a light kiss across those soft curls. "Go to sleep. I'm right here and I'm not going any place."

Starsky sighed heavily and fell quiet, burying his face against Hutch's shoulder. Within a few minutes, his breathing deepened and evened out as he slowly relaxed and fell into an exhausted slumber. Hutch lay there, staring into the darkness and listening to his friend breathing, comforted by the warmth of the slender body in his arms. Starsky's words had cut deep, wounding the blond who guiltily blamed himself for not finding his friend sooner and preventing his eventual breakdown. He had a lot to make up for.

They were both awake early the next morning, anxious to continue their journey home. Hutch checked them out of the motel and they caught a cab to head to the airport. As the driver maneuvered his way through the early morning traffic, Starsky sighed and said wistfully, "I should have called Ma while I was here to let her know that I'm alive."

Hutch felt his heart twist with pain at his partner's words. Taking a deep breath, he prepared himself to tell his partner the news that would break his heart. "Starsk…uh…I don't know how to tell you this but…uh…your Ma…" he paused and swallowed hard unable to trust his voice to continue.

Starsky looked into those ice blue eyes, his own eyes filling with a deep sadness that broke Hutch's heart. In a barely audible voice, the brunet whispered, "Ma's dead, isn't she?"

"Yeah, buddy…she is." Hutch admitted somberly.

Starsky turned his head to stare out of the window, shutting Hutch out for the moment as his grief at his loss overwhelmed him. In a choked voice, he said, "I should have been here. She died because of me…"

"That's not true." Hutch said, reaching out to clasp Starsky's shoulder in a gesture of comfort and consolation. "The doctor said it was her heart…"

"When?" Starsky asked, his voice turning cold and hard.

"About four months ago." Hutch told him. "I'm sorry, buddy. I'm so sorry."

"What about Nick?" Starsky asked, inquiring about his younger brother who still lived in New York with his mother.

"He took off after she died. Nobody knows where he went." Hutch told him. "He sold everything and just took off."

Starsky fell quiet once more and remained silent for the rest of the drive to the airport, mourning the mother who had sent him away from home when he was thirteen to give him a chance at a better life. He wondered what else had changed in the past two years since he had been away. New York had not been his home for several years, but it would always hold a place in his heart.

At the airport, the two friends confirmed their reservations, still using the names they had used on the flight from Paris. They had timed it so they were able to board the plane almost immediately. The sooner they got back to Bay City the better. They were still booked in the first class section, an extravagance that had been paid for by their new friends in Viet Nam. The extra roomy accommodations were a blessing to Hutch with his long legs and lanky frame.

Starsky remained silent until after the plane was in the air. He accepted a cold soda from the flight attendant, rewarding her with a crooked smile. "They lied, Hutch…about everything." He said somberly

"I know." Hutch said, remembering the information contained in the documents tucked away in his suitcase, the only evidence confirming what had happened to Starsky and the men who were responsible.

"I could have re-qualified. I could have gotten back on the force if they hadn't interfered."

"Once we get home and get this mess straightened up, you still could," Hutch told him encouragingly.

Starsky slowly shook his head. "I don't wanna be a cop no more…even if they'd let me. I can't forget what I did over there…what I became…"

"You mean what they made you into." Hutch said "There's a big difference." He had faith that the goodness and integrity that was the essential core of the man beside him was still intact in spite of the things he had been forced to do. All he had to do was make Starsky realize that. The two friends fell into a comfortable silence as their flight continued towards home.


	15. Chapter 15

**TORTURED MIND**

**CHAPTER FIFTEEN**

Starsky fell into a depressed silence that lasted until their flight landed in Los Angeles. His emotions were on overload, trying to process all the dramatic changes in his life in the past few weeks. He had almost died only to miraculously survive and find himself in a hospital with Hutch back at his side. He had fought his way out of the depths of his own tortured mind into a reality that he was no longer sure he wanted to be a part of. He had tried, unsuccessfully, to put an end to his own misery and ended up hurting Hutch in the process. He had unraveled the web of lies that he'd been told, lies that had cost him everything that had ever meant anything to him in his life. And then he had found out that his mother was dead and his brother had disappeared, leaving him without a family or a home. He wasn't sure how much more he could take. Hutch was all he had left, the only constant in his life that never seemed to change. But, he wondered if that was enough to keep him from giving in to the urge to crawl back into a dark hole and just give up.

Unconsciously, he rubbed the tips of his fingers together, lost in his own dark thoughts. He barely remembered the terrible pain when the men in charge of his captivity had used acid to eradicate his prints. He realized now that they had never intended to let him live once his usefulness to them was gone and that with no prints to identify him, he would have been just a nameless, unidentified corpse found in the back alleys of Viet Nam. There wouldn't have been anyone to mourn his passing because everyone who cared about him already thought that he was dead. How was he supposed to live with what had happened to him, with what he had done, with the man he had allowed himself to become? There were no easy answers, only an immense guilt and shame, and a cold rage that smoldered deep inside of him, making him an extremely dangerous man, both to himself and to others.

Starsky roused himself from his morbid thoughts as the plane began its descent into L.A. He took a deep breath to steady his nerves as he prepared to join the other passengers leaving the plane. He felt Hutch's hand on his elbow, offering unspoken support and helping to bolster his courage. His steps were confident as he followed his partner into the crowded terminal, his inner demons well concealed behind those sapphire eyes.

He immediately saw Captain Dobey and Huggy Bear waiting for them, their eyes scanning the emerging passengers anxiously for their first sight of Hutch and Starsky. Huggy saw them first and pointed them out to Dobey. Both of the black men smiled broadly as they waited for the two friends to join them. Starsky couldn't help but notice the deep lines etched in the faces of his former Captain and his tall, thin bartender friend and he knew that he was at least partially responsible for putting them there. Before he had time to finish his observation of his old friends, he found himself caught up in an enthusiastic hug by Huggy. The gesture was immediately repeated by Captain Dobey as soon as Huggy released him. Starsky awkwardly accepted the hugs, feeling self-conscious at the heartfelt gestures of affection. In the past two years the only affection Starsky had received from anyone, he had paid for.

"Let's get your bags and get out of here." Dobey said gruffly, his deep rumbling voice made even deeper by the emotion he felt at seeing his former detective again, alive and in one piece. The four men moved to the baggage claim and Hutch quickly retrieved his suitcase and Starsky's battered duffle bag. They followed Dobey out of the terminal and across the vast parking lot to his nondescript dark blue sedan. Hutch stowed the bags in the trunk and then joined Starsky in the back seat of the vehicle.

"Huggy and I stocked the house with supplies so you won't need to worry about that." Dobey said, as he started the engine and pulled out of the lot, carefully watching for traffic.

"And I borrowed a car off my cousin for you two turkeys to use." Huggy said. "I left the keys in the glove compartment. My cousin said you could use it as long as you needed it."

"We can't thank both of you enough for everything you've done." Hutch said, speaking for both of them.

"Hey, that's what friends are for, right?" Huggy said with a grin. He glanced back at Starsky, who was sitting in silence, his expression guarded as he listened to the conversation going on around him. "After all, it's not everyday that Curly here comes back to life." He grinned broadly "I always knew you two had more lives than a cat."  
"I think we had a couple of angels on our side." Hutch said, his smile directed at his partner as he thought about Chang and Stephanie and everything they had done for them. "Right, buddy?" Starsky smiled faintly and nodded his head in agreement.

Huggy handed a paper bag over the seat to Hutch. "Figured Curly might be hungry." He said with a smirk. "It looks like he lost a few pounds."

"Thanks, Hug." Hutch said, accepting the bag and opening it. Inside he found two carefully wrapped sandwiches and two orders of French fries from Huggy's restaurant. He pulled out the larger sandwich, knowing it would be a double-decker bacon cheeseburger with the works, and handed it to Starsky, along with an order of the fries.

Starsky accepted the food, his eyes lighting up with pleasure as the familiar aroma of one of his favorite sandwiches floated through the air. "Thanks, Hug." He said as he opened the wrapping and took a big bite, chewing happily. The second sandwich was tuna salad on whole wheat for Hutch. The two men ate their food in relative silence as Dobey maneuvered his way through the busy downtown streets and onto the freeway heading south. The four men kept their conversation light as Dobey drove towards their destination, carefully avoiding any details or questions about what had happened to Starsky. Starsky felt awkward and out of place, unsure what to say to his two old friends, separated by the distance and lies of the past two years that had left his life in shambles.

Even if he could pick up the pieces, Starsky was no longer sure that he wanted to try.

The house that Captain Dobey had secured for them to use was approximately thirty miles from Bay City on a secluded road without any close neighbors for miles. Nobody would know where they were except for Captain Dobey and Huggy. Hutch had told the Captain and Huggy about the documents in his possession that implicated four high ranking military officers in Starsky's abduction and brainwashing. Other charges also included forging official medical documents that were turned into the Police Department review committee, documents that had been instrumental in keeping Starsky from being reinstated to the force. Dobey had a close friend in the Justice Department that he could get the documents to so an official investigation could be started. In the meantime, the most important thing was keeping Starsky safe until appropriate action could be taken against the men responsible. It was the only chance Starsky had of ever regaining any semblance of a normal life and they all knew that.

The four men went inside. The house was small but well maintained, the furnishings comfortable and in good condition. There was one large room that was separated into a living area and a kitchen by a breakfast bar. Two bedrooms with a shared bathroom between the two rooms were located at the back of the house. The phone and utilities were both turned on, there was even an elaborate security system installed to keep out intruders or unwelcome guests.

""Who's your friend, Cap?" Hutch asked as he examined the security system. "A fed?"

"As a matter of fact, he is. This is one of their safe houses." Dobey replied solemnly. "That system has been programmed to alert me directly if you two are in any kind of trouble. Just push the red button and I'll make sure help gets here immediately."

"Thanks, Cap. Hopefully, it won't come to that."

"You have your piece, right?" Dobey asked the big blond.

"Yeah."

"What about Starsky? Does he have a gun?"

"No, they never found his…" Hutch said quietly, quickly glancing in the brunet's direction. He was standing across the room looking out the sliding glass doors that opened onto a large well cared for lawn and didn't seem to be paying attention to Hutch or Dobey. "And I'm not sure he should have a gun in his possession right now. He's still pretty shaky."

"Did something happen that you're not telling me about?" Dobey demanded perceptively.

"Nothing I can't handle." Hutch said, skillfully evading the question. What had happened back in New York was a private matter between Starsky and Hutch. The big blond would not betray Starsky's trust by telling anyone, even Captain Dobey, about his momentary breakdown. After everything he had been through in the past two years, Hutch hadn't been surprised by Starsky's aborted suicide attempt. The bandages around Starsky's right wrist was hidden by his shirt sleeve and Hutch had explained his own bandaged hand by blaming it on punching a wall in a moment of anger and frustration over Starsky's condition. He didn't know if Dobey had bought that explanation or not and, frankly, Hutch didn't really care. His only concern was protecting Starsky to the best of his ability even if that meant telling a few little white lies along the way.

Hutch walked Dobey and Huggy to the door, saying his goodbyes. He stood there in the doorway, watching as they climbed back into Dobey's car and drove away. He was startled when Starsky's voice said over his shoulder,

"Looks like it's just you and me, Buddy."

"Just like always." Hutch said with a smile as he turned around to face his friend and partner. "So, how does it feel to be back?"

"Weird as hell." Starsky admitted with a thin smile. "I feel like I should pinch myself to make sure I'm not dreaming."

"You're not dreaming, Starsk." Hutch assured him. "You're home…where you belong."

"Home…" Starsky said with a trace of sadness in his voice. "I'm not sure I even know what that word means anymore."

"I can tell you what it means to me." Hutch said, continuing without waiting for an answer. "To me, home is wherever you are."

"I wish it were that simple." Starsky said, still in the dark mood he'd been in since their flight had landed in L.A. "I'm not the same man I used to be, Hutch."

"You are to me, Gordo." Hutch insisted "You always will be and I promise that I'm going to help you get your life back…no matter what it takes."

"I guess I should be grateful that you never gave up on me, Blondie." Starsky said ruefully.

Hutch lowered his head self-consciously and said quietly, "When they told me that you were dead, I felt like I had died to. I wanted too…I didn't want to go on without you. But, I didn't have the guts to blow my brains out…so I tried to drink myself to death. That didn't work either."

"Hey, I'm glad you didn't or I wouldn't be here." Starsky said somberly. "I'd still be stuck over there…probably in some nut ward, drooling all over myself."

"I'd never let that happen." Hutch said, slinging an arm around Starsky's shoulder and pulling him close. "Let's get some sleep. I don't know about you but I'm worn out."

"Me too." Starsky said, yawning widely.


	16. Chapter 16

**TORTURED MIND**

**CHAPTER SIXTEEN**

Starsky slipped quietly out of the bed and padded on bare feet across the floor to the doorway. He paused and listened intently, hearing only the sounds of Hutch snoring softly from the other bedroom. Nodding his head in satisfaction, he went back into his own bedroom and quickly pulled on his clothes and running shoes. He had to leave while he could. He couldn't continue to put Hutch in danger. The big blond still meant too much to Starsky for him to endanger his life. Pulling his duffle bag out from underneath the bed, he slung it over his shoulder as he crept through the darkness towards the front door. Opening the door quietly, he stepped outside and disappeared into the darkness.

The first rays of the morning sun awakened Hutch. He yawned and stretched his long limbs, laying there for several minutes just listening to the silence that surrounded him. With a sudden thought, he shoved himself to his feet and hurried to the second bedroom. It was too quiet. The sight of Starsky's empty room made his heart leap into his throat as his anxiety level shot through the roof.

"STARSKY!" he yelled, frantically looking around for his friend. Finding no sign of the brunet inside the house, he stepped outside, cupping his hands around his mouth and screaming, "STARSKY! WHERE ARE YOU?" His only answer was the wind blowing softly through the trees. Turning, Hutch ran back into the house and grabbed the phone, punching in Dobey's number. He waited impatiently for the connection to be made.

"Dobey," The Captain's voice bellowed over the line.

"Cap, it's Hutch. Starsky's gone!"

"What do you mean he's gone?" Dobey demanded

"I mean he's gone! I got up this morning and he wasn't here!" Hutch declared trying to keep control of his rapidly accelerating anxiety. He bit his bottom lip hard enough to make him wince at the unexpected pain. He knew that he had to remain calm and in control of his emotions.

"Do you want me to put out an APB?"

"No…it's too dangerous. We don't know who we can trust and who we can't."

"Then how do you want to handle this?"

"I'll call Huggy and see if he can find out anything and then I'm going to go find him!"

"Where do you plan on looking?"

"I'm not sure but there's not too many places he can go." Hutch said

"NO PRIVATE PARTIES!" Dobey yelled into the phone "I wanna know where you are at all times!"

"You got it, Cap." Hutch said, hanging up before Dobey could reply. At that moment Hutch would have agreed to anything if it meant getting out there and looking for Starsky as soon as possible. Picking up the phone again, he put in a call to Huggy Bear.

"You got the Bear and this better be good!" Huggy's sleepy voice growled into the phone after six rings. "Even the roosters don't get up this early!"

"Huggy, it's me. Starsky's missing." Hutch said, cutting into Huggy's irritated tirade.

"What do you need me to do?" Huggy asked, his voice immediately changing to a tone of concern for his two friends.

"See if you hear anything on the streets about Starsky being back and if anybody is looking for him. And keep an eye out…check out some of his old haunts in case he shows up." Hutch said

"You got it. What are you gonna do?"

"I'm going out there and start looking for him. I'm going back to my place and pick up my car. You can reach me on the police radio if you need me."

"If he's on foot, he couldn't have gotten too far." Huggy pointed out

"If he's still on foot. He could have hitched a ride." Hutch countered. "I'll be in touch." Hutch hung up the phone and hurried back out the door, climbing into the borrowed car parked in the drive. Turning on the ignition, he backed out of the drive and turned left, heading for the main highway that lead back to the city. Hutch knew that Starsky was probably on his way back to Bay City and if he followed his old habits, he would be looking for the men behind his abduction to extract a little revenge. And, in the brunet's mind, he was protecting Hutch by going after them alone. Hutch had to find Starsky before the wrong person saw him. The two detectives still had enemies out there on the streets that wouldn't mind getting some revenge of their own on the brunet or on Hutch for that matter.

Within an hour, Hutch was back cruising along the familiar streets of the city. He drove past his old apartment at Venice Place and Starsky's old apartment on Redwood Drive but saw no sign of the brunet. He hadn't really expected to find him at either place but he had to look anyway. He spent the next three hours, driving past the places where the two friends used to hang out together; the beach not far from Venice Place, the bowling alley just off Sunset, the X-rated movie theatre on Thirteenth Street where they used to meet with Huggy, and several of Starsky's favorite fast food joints. He even drove past police headquarters and Captain's Dobey's house looking for his missing friend but Starsky was no place to be found.

As he drove through the streets he knew so well, Hutch found himself thinking about the game of hide and seek he had played with Starsky once. A game that had turned deadly when Hutch unwittingly ate a can of contaminated soup and Starsky had to race against time to find Hutch before he died from botulism poisoning. Starsky had found Hutch then and Hutch was just as determined to find Starsky now. The only problem was that Starsky knew how to stay out of sight when he didn't want to be found. All Hutch could do was rely on his instincts and his memories of his former partner's behavior to try and find him before it was too late.

The dispatcher's voice over the radio calling for him interrupted the blond's thoughts. Grabbing the mike from beneath the dashboard, he pressed the transmit button and said, "Yeah, Mildred. What have you got for me?"

"Meet the man named Huggy at The Pits as soon as possible." Mildred's voice said over the air.

"Ten-four. I'm on my way." Hutch said. Hanging the mike back on the concealed bracket, he did a U-turn and headed back in the opposite direction. Fifteen minutes later, he screeched his battered LTD to a halt in front of the bar and grill owned and operated by Huggy Bear. The bar was located not far from police headquarters and was a popular hangout. The food was good, the prices were fair, and the waitresses were well worth looking at. Starsky and Hutch had spent a lot of their time here, both on duty and off. Besides being their friend, Huggy was also their main source of information on what was going on out there on the streets. People often came to Huggy with information for the two detectives when they didn't want to get personally involved. Plus, Huggy had his own sources for digging up information that was hard to come by. It was those sources that Hutch was counting on to help him find Starsky.

As soon as Hutch walked into the bar, Huggy caught his eye and nodded his head towards the back of the bar. Glancing in that direction, Hutch smiled when he saw Sweet Alice sitting in a booth near the rear of the room. Nodding his thanks at Huggy, Hutch walked over to join the pretty blonde with the big blue eyes and hourglass figure. Sweet Alice was just as sweet as her name implied in spite of her chosen profession. She'd always been sweet on Hutch and often provided the two detectives with vital information, especially when it concerned the pimps and hookers out working the streets.

"Hi, Sweet Alice." Hutch said as he slid into the leather seat across from her. He smiled fondly. He genuinely liked the pretty little blond even if she was a hooker. He had tried, without much success, over the years to get her off the streets but Alice was too set in her ways to chance. Unlike most of her peers, she worked independently and had her own select group of clientele who treated her well and paid her just as well for her services.

"Hi, yourself, handsome Hutch." Alice drawled in her heavy southern accent, using her pet name for Hutch. "You look tired. You looking for your better half?"

"Have you seen him?" Hutch asked anxiously

"No, but I heard he was back in town…alive and well."

"Who told you?" Hutch demanded

"A friend that said they saw him down by the old mission this morning." Alice said softly. "She said that Starsky took off before she could talk to him but she's sure that it was him." A smile tugged at her full lips "She said there was no mistaking that strut…she'd know it anywhere."

Hutch felt a smile pulling at his own mouth. Starsky definitely had a distinctive strut to his walk that attracted the ladies whenever he walked into a room. Once you saw that strut, you never forgot it. "Have you heard anything else?" Hutch asked, sensing that there was more.

"Word on the streets is that there's some guy out there offering big bucks to anyone who can tell him where Starsky is." Alice told him.

"Who?" Hutch demanded

"I don't know." The petite blonde said with a trace of sadness in her voice. "But I've heard that he's got some heavy players behind him."

"Thanks, Alice." Hutch said, slipping a twenty out of his wallet and folding it in half. He smiled as he slipped it down the front of her low cut blouse to nestle between her firm little breasts. "Let me know if you hear anything else but be careful. This guy could be bad news."

"You need to be careful too, handsome Hutch." Alice said with a sweet smile. "Word is that this guy is looking for you too."

"I'm not hiding." Hutch said with a shrug. "If he wants me, then let him keep looking. Maybe I'll get lucky and find him first."

"I'm glad that Starsky's still alive." Alice said, reaching out to gently caress the back of Hutch's hand. "I know how lost you've been without him. It just hasn't been the same, has it?"

"No, it hasn't." Hutch admitted "I can't let anything happen to him now."

"You'll find him. I know you will." Alice said confidently. "You two are linked at the soul…you belong together." Hutch left some more bills on the table to pay for Alice's drink and shoved himself to his feet to continue his search. He couldn't be sure exactly who was after Starsky but whoever it was, it surely meant trouble for the burnet if he was found by the wrong person.

Climbing back beneath the wheel of his car and turning on the engine, Hutch muttered under his breath, "Come on, buddy…where the hell are you?" he closed his eyes for a moment, searching with his mind for that unique, almost physic bond, he had always shared with Starsky, relying on it to help him search for his friend.


	17. Chapter 17

**TORTURED MIND**

**CHAPTER SEVENTEEN**

Starsky lurked in the shadows, staying close to the brick wall as he crept down the alley towards the street. A dark smile tugged at his lips as he found himself prowling the familiar streets he had roamed in his childhood. It seemed like a lifetime ago since he had been back to this neighborhood. He cut through a back yard and easily vaulted over a wooden fence that surrounded the yard behind the house he was seeking. Moving silently through the darkness, he made his way to the garage and slipped inside through an unlocked side door. He paused for a moment to allow his eyes to adjust to the heavier darkness inside the garage. He could see the vague outline of the car parked in front of him.

Edging his way around the side of the vehicle, he quietly lifted up the garage door and then walked back to the car. Opening the door with a soft click, he slid underneath the wheel and reached out to pull down the overhead visor. He grinned as the keys he knew he would find hidden there fell out into his open palm. Shifting into reverse, he let the car roll backwards, carefully guiding it out of the garage and down the driveway to the street. He waited until he was safely in the road before starting the engine and roaring off. He glanced in the rearview mirror in time to see the porch light snap on outside the house disappearing into the darkness behind him.

Hutch was cruising the streets miles away when he heard the call over his radio about a stolen vehicle. He recognized the address immediately. Pulling another U-turn, he headed towards a neighborhood on the other side of town. A black and white unit was already at the scene when he arrived, two uniformed officers standing in the front yard talking to the distraught older couple that had reported their car stolen.

The woman's eyes widened in surprise, recognizing Hutch the minute he climbed out of his vehicle. Breaking away from her husband and the two investigating officers, she hurried towards him. "Ken!" she exclaimed "What are you doing here?"

"I heard the report over the radio about your car being stolen." Hutch told her with a encouraging smile.

"And since when is that important enough to bring a Detective here to investigate…and a Lieutenant no less." She chided him warmly.

"Rose, I need a description of your car. It's important." Hutch said, the smile fading from his face. He took her arm and pulled her to one side, farther away from the inquisitive officers who had stopped what they were doing and were looking at Hutch with puzzled expressions on their faces. Her husband excused himself and walked over to his wife and Hutch.

"Ken, what's going on here?" her husband asked, as puzzled as his wife had been at Hutch's unexpected appearance.

"Ken wants to know what our car looks like." Rose told him. She looked at Hutch intently. "He was just about to tell me why he wants to know so badly."

"Look, why don't we talk about this inside?" Hutch suggested. He turned his attention to the approaching uniformed officers and said, "Its okay, fellas. I'll take care of it from here."

"Sure, Lieutenant, anything you say." The older of the two men said offhandedly, recognizing Hutch as a higher ranking officer. It didn't make any difference to him if some hotshot detective wanted to handle a measly little stolen car report. He gestured with his chin for his partner to follow him back to their cruiser as Hutch followed the older couple into their modest split level home.

As soon as the door closed behind them, Al Starsky looked at the big blond and said, "All right, Ken, suppose you tell us what this is all about?" Like the nephew he had raised since he was thirteen and came to Bay City to live with Al and Rose, he got right to the point.

"I think Star…uh…David took your car." Hutch told them, watching them both carefully to gauge their reaction to his announcement. They both looked startled and confused.

"David?" Rose said in a choked voice, tears pooling in her gentle blue eyes. "Our David?" She clutched at her husband's arm as she continued to stare at Hutch questioningly.

"Yes. He's alive and he's somewhere in the city." Hutch said, seeing the rush of emotions that filled their eyes at that statement.

"David's alive?" Al said in a stunned voice. "How?"

"It's a long story and I don't have time to get into it right now. I need to find him as soon as possible. Can you please tell me what your car looks like…and your license plate number?" Hutch asked

"Of course. It's a light blue 1980 Camaro with dealer's plates." Al told him.

"Thank you," Hutch said gratefully "As soon as I find him and we take care of some unfinished business, I promise I'll bring him back here to see both of you."

"Please," Rose said with a shaky smile "Tell him that we love him and to be careful." Without Hutch telling her anything, she instinctively knew that Starsky was in some kind of danger. But, she also knew that he would be safe as long as Hutch found him in time. Whatever had happened to him, wherever he had been for the past two years, didn't matter as long as he was alive.

Hutch hurried back out to his car, excited at the first solid lead he had at finding his missing partner. Picking up the mike as he pulled out into the street, he requested a patch through to Captain Dobey at his home. A few minutes passed before the connection was made.

"Hutch?" Dobey's voice growled "Did you find Starsky?"

"Not yet but I think he's driving his Uncle Al's car. I need an APB on a 1980 light blue Camaro with dealers tags. Advise sany officer that spots him not to stop him…just report his location back to me."

"I'll take care of it." Dobey promised, breaking off the connection.

Fifteen minutes later, Hutch got his first report on the Camaro. It had been spotted on the north side of the city not far from the apartment where Hutch had moved after Starsky's alleged death. Praying that his hunch was right, Hutch took a chance and decided to take a shortcut to his own apartment. Even as he turned onto his street, he knew that he was too late. He spotted a flash of red turning the corner at the end of the street. As he drove past his own apartment, Hutch saw the blue Camaro parked in front of the little house and the open door leading into an empty garage. Starsky's pride and joy, his 1975 candy apple red Torino with the white racing stripe, was missing. Hutch had kept the Torino, along with most of Starsky's personal possessions, storing them in his garage. Those inanimate objects had been the only connection he had left of the brunet. At least the Torino wouldn't be that hard to spot at a distance. It was too distinctive to blend in with the rest of the late evening traffic.

Hutch knew exactly what Starsky was doing by abandoning the Camaro and changing to the Torino. He was making himself an easy target for anyone who might be looking for him. It was a typical Starsky move, impulsive and brash, stating quite clearly to the bad guys, _Here I am. Come and get me if you want me. _ Hutch followed in the direction he had seen Starsky heading but by the time he turned the corner, the Torino was already out of sight. Hutch cursed quietly under his breath and grabbed the mike to call Dobey again and tell him that Starsky had switched cars. With Starsky behind the wheel of the Torino, which was as well known as the brunet in Bay City, there was no hiding the fact that Starsky was alive any longer.

Even though he was out of practice, Hutch tried to think like Starsky. He knew Starsky was using himself as bait to try and lure anyone who might be looking for him out into the open but other than that, Hutch realized that he had no idea what Starsky might be planning. For the past two years, Starsky had been forced to live by his wits and had to operate alone without anyone watching his back. Hutch choked back the lump that rose into his throat as he thought about his own journey into hell over the past two years. His version of hell paled considerably in comparison to what Starsky had been forced to endure. Hutch was so afraid of losing him again, this time for good, if not to the bad guys who wanted him dead than to the persistent demons that still tortured his soul. He found himself wondering if Starsky would ever be able to truly recover from what he had been through. The guilt and depression alone was tearing the usually resilient brunet apart.

Starsky had been through so much in his life. Losing his father to violence at a young age, being sent away from his immediate family and the only way of life he knew, facing the jungles of Viet Nam and the horrors of that senseless war, coming home to a country that spit on him and called him names, and then joining the police force. That decision had brought more turmoil and heartaches to his life. Poisoning, knife wounds, attacks by Satanists, kidnappings, beatings, and almost dying numerous times. Not to mention the failed relationships and the death of his fiancé at the hands of a maniac out for revenge. Then he ends up being brainwashed and forced to become a hired killer by the same government he had served while in the military, spirited away to a country that held nothing but bad memories. And now, he was back home and facing the demons that continued to pursue him. Trying to ignore the exhaustion that threatened to overwhelm him, Hutch relentlessly continued his search.

On the west side of town, safely hidden away behind an abandoned warehouse, Starsky slouched in the front seat of the Torino, trying to get some rest. One hand reached out to gently caress the soft leather seat beside him even as a gentle smile tugged at his mouth. He had missed this car. It was the first expensive thing he had ever owned, the first serious financial obligation he had taken on as an adult. The car signified his independence and his newfound maturity. But to him, it was more than that. It was the embodiment of all the things he had missed out on as a child, the material things he had been denied because his family couldn't afford them.

An onslaught of memories swept over him. Even though Hutch had teased him unmercifully about his choice of vehicles, Hutch had known how much this car meant to Starsky, how much it defined the man he was inside. Hutch keeping the car and all the personal possessions that had a special meaning to Starsky was proof of how close the bond was between the two men. Over the past two years, his memories of the times he had shared with Hutch had been one of the few things that had kept him sane. He felt guilty when he thought how close he had come to giving up. It was that same bond that had led Starsky to run away from Hutch. He couldn't risk Hutch getting hurt, not because of him. Starsky was the one they wanted and he would die to protect Hutch from the men who were after him.

Starsky was scared. He'd be a fool not to be but he had learned at a young age how to control his fear and to use it to his advantage. The only way to end the nightmare he found himself entangled in was to find the men who wanted him dead before they found him. He had one last assignment to carry out before he could rest easy. Finally, he fell into a restless slumber, every sense still alert for any sound of immediate danger.

With a start, his eyes flew open, his body jerking in response to his sudden awakening. His heart was pounding in his chest, a cold sweat bathing his face, as the fragments of the nightmare slowly faded from his mind. Opening the car door, he quietly eased out of the car and dug some change out of his jeans. Making his way through the darkness, he maneuvered the labyrinth of empty warehouses until he spotted a lone payphone near a fenced in area.

Picking up the receiver, he put in a handful of change and dialed the number that only he knew. After several rings, a man's voice gravely voice snarled, "Yeah?"

"Your mission failed. I'm still alive." Starsky said in a cold, level voice. "That's where you fucked up because now I'm coming after you." He hung up with a sharp click before the man on the other end of the line could reply. Starsky took a deep, even breath and turned to walk back to where he had stashed the Torino. For the next two hours, he put together a plan, utilizing the skills and knowledge he'd learned both in the streets of New York and the jungles of Viet Nam.


	18. Chapter 18

**TORTURED MIND**

**CHAPTER EIGHTEEN**

Hutch scowled darkly as he maneuvered through the streets and back alleys of Bay City. It had been almost two hours since he'd had an update on Starsky's location. The Torino wasn't that easy to miss. Starsky had to be hiding somewhere. Finally, Hutch knew he had to call it a night. He was ready to doze off behind the wheel. Wrapping his car around a light pole wasn't going to help Starsky. He needed a good night's sleep and then he could start his search again first thing in the morning.

Sighing heavily, frustrated at his failure to find his missing partner, Hutch turned around and headed for home. Twenty minutes later, he was pulling his car into his driveway. As he climbed out of the battered vehicle, he saw the piece of paper stuck under the lid of his mailbox. Grabbing the paper, he recognized Starsky's handwriting immediately. Pausing on the front stoop, he read the note from his friend.

_Hutch, I know you're probably pissed at me for taking off on you but I can't drag you down with me. These guys play for keeps and I'm the one they want. It's too dangerous for you to be around me right now. I couldn't live with myself if anything happened to you because of me. This is my war and it's up to me to put an end to it. I'm the only one who can. I know how these bastards think and I know how to find them. If I live through this, I promise I'll be back. S_

"Damn it, Starsky." Hutch muttered as he carefully folded up the paper and stuck it safely in his jacket. "Why do you always have to do things your way?" The big blond suddenly felt much older than his forty-one years. Unlocking the door, he stepped into his tiny cottage, flipping on the switch to the left of the doorway.

He made his way into the kitchen and grabbed a beer out of the refrigerator. Popping the tab, he stood there at the counter and took a long deep swallow. A sudden thought crossed his mind. Hurrying back to the front door, he opened it and reached up to run his fingers over the top of the doorframe. Just as he suspected, the spare key that he kept there was gone. Starsky had been in the house. His mind automatically settled into cop mode as he shut the door and turned back to sweep his gaze around the interior of his home. Nothing appeared to be out of place in the living room or kitchen. Turning to the right, he walked down the short hall and into his bedroom.

He immediately noticed the clothes that Starsky had been wearing the last time Hutch had seen him lying folded neatly on the bed. A quick search of his closet revealed a pair of black jeans and a black turtleneck sweater missing. Perfect clothes to wear to blend into the darkness so you could do a little hunting. Turning to the nightstand beside his bed, he pulled open the top drawer. He wasn't surprised to find his spare weapon, a colt forty-five, missing along with two full clips of ammunition. Starsky was armed and dangerous, a deadly combination.

Hutch slumped down on the bed, his shoulders sagging dejectedly. His partner was out there alone and scared, trying to take on the bad guys all by himself. It wasn't the way they worked but then Starsky had been on his own for a while now and so had Hutch. The powerful bond that had always bound them together in the past had unraveled somewhat in the past two years, leaving them both floundering and alone. As much as Hutch longed for things to be the way they used to be, he had to accept the fact that may never happen. The thought of losing Starsky, not to death, but to the demons in his own mind, made a painful lump rise in Hutch's throat. Almost from the day they had met, it had be _Me and Thee_, the two of them against the world. And that was they way they had kept it through the years. As long as they had each other, they didn't need anyone else. Grimly, Hutch reminded himself that Starsky hadn't had anyone for the past two years that he could rely on but himself and that was the only thing that had kept him alive.

The ringing of the telephone on the nightstand startled him so badly that Hutch almost fell off the bed. Grabbing the receiver, he said breathlessly, "Hutchinson."

"Hutchinson." Huggy's mocking tone said in his ear. "Sounds like you didn't have any luck finding that partner of yours."

"No, I didn't." Hutch admitted. "He was at my place and helped himself to a change of clothes, a gun and the striped tomato." He relaxed back against the pillows on the bed, toeing off his boots as he swung his long legs up onto the mattress. "You find out anything?"

"There were a couple of guys in my place earlier tonight asking a lot of questions about you and Starsky both…military types if you catch my drift. The one guy claimed he was a doctor and that Starsky was a patient of his who walked out of the hospital…that he should be considered dangerous and highly unstable."

"Fuck! So now they're tying to make it look like he's some kind of nut case." Hutch said in a disgusted voice. "That way if he talks to anybody, you can bet they'll have their asses covered to make it look like it's all in his head."

"And if some over zealous rookie looking to score brownie points happens across him and Starsky gets killed in the cross fire, so much the better." Huggy finished glumly.

Hutch sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling the headache that was beginning to settle just behind his eyes. "As far as I can tell, there are only four or five main players in this little game, the rest of the military has no idea what's been going on."

"But they still have resources available to them that can make your life and Starsky's a living hell." Huggy pointed out. "They're gonna find him…it's just a matter of time."

"Especially since Starsky is using himself as the bait to reel them in."

"Why doesn't that surprise me?" Huggy said in a droll tone. "Does Curly have some kind of death wish or something?"

Although Huggy had meant his words as a bad joke, the truth in his comment hit Hutch hard. In a choked voice, he said, "Yeah, as a matter of fact, he does. The guilt of what they made him do is eating him alive."

"That bad, huh?" Huggy said, his voice immediately turning contrite and concerned. "Are you trying to tell me that he actually overdosed on those pills?"

"No…they forced those on him to make it look like he tried to kill himself." Hutch said somberly. "It happened while we were on a layover in New York. I stopped him from cutting his wrists with a razor."

"That doesn't sound like Curly." Huggy said just as somberly.

"He's not the same Starsky he was two years ago." Hutch admitted. It hurt like hell to say those words aloud but he had to face the truth.

"Then it sounds to me like the white knight had better get out there and find him."

With those parting words, Huggy hung up the phone. After a moment, Hutch returned his phone to the cradle. Settling down on the bed, Hutch threw one arm up over his eyes and drifted into an uneasy slumber.

Hutch had no idea how long he had been asleep when he suddenly awakened, his heart pounding frantically in his chest. He lay there, staring into the darkness, listening intently to the familiar sounds of the house at night, trying to determine what had awakened him so abruptly. He sensed rather than saw a presence in the darkness beside the bed. Before he could rally enough to defend himself, Hutch felt rough hands grabbing him, holding him down while another unfamiliar hand pressed a cloth soaked in chloroform over his nose and mouth. Hutch struggled but soon felt himself drifting away into the darkness, his body feeling heavy and unresponsive.


	19. Chapter 19

**TORTURED MIND**

**CHAPTER NINETEEN**

Hutch tried to force his heavy eyelids to open, his mind slowly cataloging the various aches and pains in his battered body. It felt as if he'd gone ten rounds with the world heavyweight champion and lost. As the cobwebs slowly cleared from his mind, he realized that his hands were tightly tied behind his back. There was a chill in the air that made him shiver. He could feel a cold draft from his position on the cement floor. Finally, he forced his eyes open and stared into the darkness that surrounded him. He had no idea where he was or how he had gotten here.

As his gaze swept around the room, he noted that he was lying in what appeared to be a large freezer of some sort. Well, at least that explained why he felt so cold. The temperature wasn't cold enough to freeze, just cold enough to be uncomfortable. Hutch instinctively tested the ropes binding his hands but his attempts to free himself were futile. The knots were too tight. All he managed to do was rub the skin off his wrists. He shifted positions, managing to pull himself up so that he was sitting with his back against the wall.

He closed his eyes momentarily, concentrating on trying to ease the throbbing in his skull. His mouth was dry with a lingering aftertaste. He knew that he'd been chloroformed. He remembered the feeling of the hands holding him down and he felt a brief flash of panic at the memory. He had no idea who had abducted him from his own bed but he was certain that he would find out soon enough. Hutch wasn't so much concerned about himself as he was for his missing partner who was still out there somewhere by himself.

The sound of the heavy metal door to his prison opening made Hutch tense in anticipation. Four men stepped into the room. Three of them were dressed in military uniforms and were all in their mid to late twenties. They were all well built and muscular, their expressions unreadable. In their hands, they each held an automatic rifle, held casually with the barrels pointing at the floor. But, Hutch had no doubt that each of them was prepared to shoot his weapon when ordered.

The fourth man was older, in his late forties with salt and pepper hair and a cold, flat look in his pale blue eyes. He was dressed in neatly creased kaki pants with a matching short sleeved shirt that exposed the thick rope of muscles in his beefy arms. He looked at Hutch with a thin, hard smile. "Welcome back, Detective Hutchinson. So glad you could join us. Let me introduce myself. I'm Major Lewis and these gentlemen with me have strict orders to shoot you if you try anything."

"What do you want with me?" Hutch demanded, keeping his voice level and calm.

"I'm sure you already know what we want. You're our insurance policy to make sure that Sergeant Starsky doesn't try anything stupid." The Major explained with a sneer. "A trade of sorts your life for his."

"And what makes you think that Starsky is going to care what happens to me?"

"Oh, I know all about you and Sergeant Starsky and how close the two of you were before he came to work for us."

"Don't you mean before you kidnapped him and brainwashed him into being a hired assassin?" Hutch said, an icy tone creeping into his voice.

"Unfortunately, we may have been a little too successful with that little experiment. Sergeant Starsky has decided to make us his next target and I know from experience that he is very, very good at what we trained him to do." The Major smiled thinly "So that's where you come in. If Sergeant Starsky does find our little hideaway, we'll kill you if he doesn't want to listen to reason."

"And then what? You'll kill him and try to make it look like he killed himself to cover your own asses? That didn't seem to work very well the last time." Hutch said with a thin smile of his own.

"No, I have something else much better in mind for Sergeant Starsky. He's going to spend the rest of his life in a military hospital, heavily drugged and restrained, so that he can't hurt anyone else again. Pity too…such a young man with a mind that's broken beyond repair."

"With a little help from you." Hutch snapped. "He's what you made him."

"Maybe so…but you'll never prove that and neither will he. There's no record of Sergeant Starsky's activities in Viet Nam and his identify here in the States has been eliminated. He no longer exists." The Major's voice was confident and smug. He apparently didn't realize that Hutch had copies of the incriminating documents that implicated him in everything that had happened and gave all the dirty little details.

Hutch had turned those documents over to Caption Dobey who had promised to make sure they got to a friend of his in the Justice Department. Hopefully, if it came to that, his death would not be in vain. He silently prayed that if he didn't survive this ordeal, Starsky wouldn't let Hutch's death push him over the edge again into the darkness of his own mind.

"In the meantime, Detective Hutchinson, we can't have you making any noise and alerting Sergeant Starsky to your presence if he should arrive unexpectedly." The Major said, nodding at one of the younger men at his side. The young man handed his weapon to the Major and reached into his pocket, taking out a hypodermic needle filled with a clear liquid.

"Noooooo…" Hutch moaned, instinctively trying to move away as the young man advanced towards him. Memories of his forced addiction to heroin at the hands of a drug dealer out for revenge flooded his mind. A cold sweat bathed his face and his heart began to pound frantically in his chest. Every since that time in his life, Hutch had been deathly afraid of needles and any kind of drug that was stronger than aspirin. His eyes rolled back in his head, lost in the terror triggered by his own phobia, as the younger man knelt beside him and sank the needle into his left forearm.

Hutch felt the effects almost immediately. A cold chill settled over him and his limps felt heavy and lethargic. His eyes grew heavy as his head fell forward, his chin resting against his chest. He welcomed the darkness that dragged him into its comforting embrace and away from the taste of his own fear.

Major Lewis smiled as he watched Hutch succumb to unconsciousness. Glancing at his subordinates, he said "that should keep him out for at least the next four hours. Get to your posts and make sure everything is ready. Sergeant Starsky should show up anytime and I want to make sure that we're ready to welcome him properly." His eyes darkened and a tic appeared in his left cheek. "If he won't cooperate with us, then you have your orders. Either way, I want both Sergeant Starsky and his partner eliminated, once and for all."

Two of the young men nodded and walked over to Hutch's unconscious form. They grabbed him under the arms and pulled him to his feet, dragging him from the room. They took Hutch to a large open area in another part of the building and roughly dumped him on the ground. One of the men took a penknife from his fatigues and cut the ropes binding his wrists behind his back. He replaced the rope with Hutch's handcuffs, snapping one bracelet around his left wrist securely. The two men hefted Hutch to his feet, supporting most of his weight between them, while the man on the left wrapped the handcuff chain over a thick water pipe above Hutch's head and then secured the other bracelet to his opposite wrist. The two men stepped back, watching in satisfaction, as Hutch's body slumped forward, his entire weight supported by his wrists. It wouldn't take long for his current position to put a tremendous strain on Hutch's shoulders and back. Exchanging a grim look of approval, the two men hurried away to follow their other orders.

Major Lewis had returned to a tiny room at the rear of the building that he was using as a temporary office. David Starsky had ruined all of his carefully thought out plans by not dying the way he was supposed to over in Viet Nam. The men who had dumped his body in the alley prematurely without waiting to make sure he was dead first had paid dearly for their mistake. His contacts in Asia had instructions to take care of the meddling doctor and her chink boyfriend who had put together the pieces and brought Detective Hutchinson back into the picture. With any luck, all the loose ends would be wrapped up within the next twenty-four hours and the Major could disappear with his ill gotten gains to South America where he could live out his life in leisure under an assumed identity. It had been a good plan and it would have worked. His mistake had been choosing a man like David Starsky to use as the pawn in his little game.


	20. Chapter 20

**TORTURED MIND**

**CHAPTER TWENTY**

Starsky slouched in the darkness, blending into the shadows with his black clothing and the stocking hat pulled down over his dark curls. The gun he had taken from Hutch's house was stuck beneath his waistband in the middle of his back and a wicked looking hunting knife was hidden beneath his left pants leg. He had been sitting in the darkness staring at the abandoned meat packing plant for the past two hours. He had tracked Major Lewis and small band of cronies to this location. Now, he was trying to formulate a plan. Finding them had been too easy. He sensed that it was a setup. They were waiting for him, expecting his arrival. He needed to keep the element of surprise on his side.

He dug a crumbled pack of cigarettes out of his pants pocket and stuck one in his mouth, cupping his hands around it as he lit it to hide the flare of the lighter. Smoking was one of the bad habits he had picked up again in the past two years. He found himself wishing he had a different kind of cigarette to smoke but there was no time to find someone to sell him some. He rocked back on his heels, inhaling deeply and holding the smoke in his lungs for a moment before exhaling, ignoring the stinging of his eyes from the arid smoke.

He had seen shadows moving in front of the windows of the slaughter house and had counted at least four different silhouettes. He knew the odds were stacked against him but he didn't care. Tonight his torment was going to end, one way or the other. If he died during his mission than at least he would finally be free and it would be on his own terms, not on someone else's agenda.

Starsky stood up, stretching like a cat to work the kinks out of his muscles. It was time to make his move. Moving like a wisp of smoke through the darkness, he stealthily made his way towards his target. He had already noticed a poorly concealed back door and decided to use that as his point of entry. The door was locked from the inside but that didn't present a problem. Using his knife, he made short work of the lock and slipped into the eerily quiet building. He paused, giving his eyes time to adjust to the darkness around him.

Keeping close to the wall, he moved to his right, keeping his eyes and ears open for any sign of danger. He found an archway that opened into another part of the building and hid behind one of the huge beams forming the doorframe. Then he waited. He didn't have to wait long. A young man in military fatigues walked through the archway, intending to sneak out for a cigarette. That was his last coherent thought. As he walked through the archway, Starsky pounced, wrapping one arm around his neck while he used the knife in his left hand to slice the man's throat. The man fell to the ground at the brunet's feet, the blood gushing from the wound, gasping like a fish as he choked on his own blood.

Wiping the blade of the knife on his jeans, Starsky slipped the weapon back into the leather sheath hidden under his pants. Grabbing the man's wrists, Starsky pulled his body over behind some wooden crates, hiding it from view. One down, at least three more to go.

Starsky crept back to the archway and peered carefully into the other part of the building. He didn't see anyone as he eased around the doorframe and deeper into the building. He was in the part of the building where the animals had been kept until they were slaughtered. The wooden pens were long abandoned but the horrid odor of death and decay still lingered heavily in the air. Starsky found another door and carefully eased it open. He found himself in the part of the building where the slaughtering was actually done. Huge meat hooks hung on long chains from the ceiling and heavy scarred tables stood in the middle of the room. Several machines, unused for years, were at the far side of the room.

He darted underneath one of the tables when he heard a door open somewhere on the other side of the room. Holding his breath, he listened as someone moved quietly in his direction. Somewhere to his left, a voice called out "Jim? Hey, Jim! Are you back here? The Major wants you back at your post!"

A man's leg appeared in Starsky's line of vision. Using the element of surprise, he reached out and grabbed the man's ankle. The man gave a startled yelp as he stumbled and fell to the floor. Before he could collect himself, Starsky was on top of him, one arm pressed tightly against his throat as he pinned the other man down with his weight. Applying a bit more pressure, Starsky watched in grim satisfaction as the man's eyes widened in panic as the burnet's arm cut off his oxygen. The man struggled in vain to try and free himself, his struggles growing weaker and weaker as he slowly suffocated. Starsky kept up the steady pressure until he was positive that the other man was dead.

Rising to his knees, he stuffed the other man's body underneath the table where he had been hiding. Satisfied that his latest victim wouldn't be discovered anytime soon, Starsky determinedly continued on his quest. He found the other door where the unfortunate officer had entered and opened it a crack so he could see what lay beyond.

There was a large vast room with packing crates and large rolls of plastic wrap sitting at the end of a conveyor belt. While the other rooms had been dark and filled with shadows, this room was well lit, enabling Starsky to get a general idea of the rest of the layout of the building.

There were several glass windows on the far side of the room bordering a dimly lit hallway. Starsky could hear the faint sound of voices to his left but he couldn't make out what was being said. Instinctively, he made his way in that direction. Taking cover behind a pile of crates, he caught his breath sharply when he saw Hutch's body suspended from an overhead pipe by his handcuffed wrists. The blond appeared to be either unconscious or dead. Starsky couldn't be sure which but he doubted if the Major would have much use for Hutch if he were already dead. The major and two other young men in military fatigues stood to Hutch's left, obviously discussing their strategy among themselves.

Starsky cursed silently to himself. He should have known that the Major would try something like this. He didn't remember much about the early days of his captivity but he did remember them using drugs and beatings to delve into the depths of his mind, uncovering his innermost thoughts and fears. They knew how close he and Hutch had been. They knew they could use Hutch as a bargaining chip against him. He should have anticipated that move and found them sooner before they had the opportunity to capture Hutch. He had to get closer so he could hear what they were saying but he had to be careful. He wouldn't do Hutch much good if he got caught too. He had no doubt that the Major planned on killing them both and disposing of their bodies where they would never be found. Hell, for that matter, he could just leave them in the abandoned factory. Nobody else had been inside this place for years.

Starsky carefully made his way to another stake of crates, making sure he stayed out of sight and stepped lightly. Crouching down, he listened, pleased to discover he could hear them perfectly.

"He should be waking up soon." The Major was saying "Is everything ready for Sergeant Starsky's arrival?"

"Yes, sir," said one of the other men smartly. Starsky choked back a snicker at the man's rigid posture and formal tone. He was definitely military through and through. He felt a surge of relief at the Major's words. At least he knew now that Hutch was still alive, even if he was in no shape to be of much use to Starsky right now.

Suddenly, Starsky felt the cold hard metal of a gun barrel pressing against the back of his neck. A cold deadly voice said, "Stand up real slow and keep your hands where I can see them, Sergeant." Slowly, Starsky did as he was ordered.

The Major's head darted in his direction at the sound of his captor's voice. A thin, cold smile tugged at his lips and he said, "It's good to see you again, David. So glad you could join us."

"Too bad I can't say the same thing." Starsky said, tensing as he felt the man behind him patting him down for weapons. He found the gun beneath Starsky's waistband and the knife under his pants leg, relieving the brunet of both. The younger man nudged Starsky with the gun.

"Move." The man behind him ordered harshly. Keeping his hands in plain sight, Starsky slowly took a step forward towards his final destiny.


	21. Chapter 21

**TORTURED MIND**

**CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE**

Starsky raised his head, locking eyes with the Major. His mouth was swollen and bleeding, two teeth knocked loose from the methodical beating he had been dealt at the hands of the Major's henchmen. He was tied to a wooden chair sitting in the middle of the room, an eerie repeat of Starsky's last meeting with the older man. But this time, the brunet knew his death would not be quick or easy. He had embarrassed and humiliated the Major and the man did not deal well with being shown up by someone he considered beneath him.

"It's too bad that it had to come to this, David." The Major said trying to appear remorseful but his voice betrayed the lie. He was enjoying watching the cocky brunet being beaten and broken. "We could have made a great team if you had just played by the rules and remembered your place."

"Fuck you." Starsky snarled his voice barely above a growl. He was not afraid to die and he was not intimidated by the man standing before him. Even if this was his time to die, he would die on his own terms and not on someone else's. But he wouldn't go out without a fight. He still had a few tricks up his sleeve.

Hutch had regained consciousness while the soldiers were beating Starsky unmercifully. Annoyed by the big blond's yelling and cussing, describing in explicit detail what he was going to do to all of them if he got loose, the Major had finally ordered Hutch gagged to keep him quiet. Hutch had continued to struggle with the cuffs that bound his hands even though he knew it was pointless, all the while making muffled sounds beneath his gag.

Starsky had glanced in Hutch's direction, communicating with him silently, the same way they had often done on the streets and in the squad room.

"_Have faith, Blondie…I'll figure out a way to get us out of this."_

"_You got a plan?"_

"_Working on it."_

"_Well, you better come up with one quick. This guy wants to make you bleed."_

"_He already has…"_

"_I'll just hang around until you come up with an idea."_

They had exchanged a thin smile as Starsky turned his attention back on the four men surrounding him. He tuned out the Major's voice as he twisted his left wrist in the ropes that bound him until he could slip his fingers under the right sleeve of his black windbreaker. He hid a wince of pain as his fingers touched the sharp edge of the single edged razor blade taped to the inside of his right wrist. He managed to jerk the edge of the tape loose and maneuvered the razor blade between two fingers on his left hand. Keeping his face calm and expressionless, he slid the blade down to the palm of his hand. With grim determination, he began sawing at the nylon rope binding his wrists, ignoring the sharp flare of pain as the blade accidentally sliced into his fingers and skin.

"I'm afraid it's almost time for us to leave, David." The Major said in a cold, deadly voice. "It's a shame our relationship had to end like this…" he nodded at his younger cronies and stepped back, a thin smile on his face to watch them finish off the troublesome brunet.

Several things happened simultaneously. As one of the young men stepped towards Starsky, pulling a hypodermic needle from his pocket with a sneer on his face, Starsky kicked out with his left leg, hitting the man squarely in the groin. The man screamed in agony and fell to his knees, clutching his injured genitals. The needle fell from his hand to the cement floor, the fragile glass shattering and spilling the deadly contents. At the same time, Starsky finished cutting though the rope holding his hands and bounced to his feet, grabbing a second man in a headlock and twisting his head sharply to the right. His neck snapped with an audible crack. Starsky let the lifeless body crumple to the ground and fell into a forward roll to avoid the gunfire from the third man's rifle. Jumping to his feet, he grabbed the Major from behind, one arm pressed tightly against his throat, while his free hand held the razor blade poised to slice his neck.

The remaining man raised his rifle, pointing it at Starsky and the Major, his eyes showing his indecision. He knew he didn't have a clear shot at the brunet and he didn't want to kill his commander.

"Do it and the Major dies too." Starsky warned him in a cold, deadly voice.

"Shoot the blond you idiot!" The Major snarled, glaring at his subordinate.

"Go ahead." Starsky said calmly, risking a quick glance in Hutch's direction. "You kill him and you're both still gonna die…so go ahead. It doesn't matter to me. Not anymore."

The young officer glanced nervously between the still bound blond and his superior officer. This was more than he had bargained for when he signed on for this mission. The look in the brunet's eyes left no doubt in his mind that the dark haired man meant what he said. If he shot the blond, the brunet would kill them both with his bare hands. The young officer had already seen Starsky take out his two companions without even breaking a sweat. He didn't want to be the third victim to fall to that murderous rage. He had read the man's file. He knew just how dangerous Starsky could be. That was what had made him so good at what he did.

The Major winced as Starsky deliberately ran the edge of the razor against his throat, just enough to cut a thin scratch in the skin. A clear warning to both men that he meant business. "It's time to make a choice. Put down the gun and let Hutchinson go."

"And then what?" the young man asked in a nervous voice that betrayed his uncertainty. His gun wavered in his grasp as he considered his options.

"Then I'll let you live…or I'll kill you slow after I take care of the Major here…it's up to you." Starsky told him, never taking his eyes off of the younger man and his weapon.

"How do I know I can trust you?"

"Because I gave you my word." Starsky said with a thin smile that made him look even more dangerous. He glanced again at Hutch and saw the smile in the big blond's eyes. Hutch had seen Starsky in combat mode out on the streets dealing with the bad guys but never quite like this. This was a side of Starsky that Hutch had never seen before. It was the soldier that had been trained to kill without a second thought, a side that Starsky had always kept rigidly under control. It was the man that Starsky had tried to leave buried in Viet Nam years ago.

The younger soldier slowly laid his weapon on the ground and then reached into his jacket for the key to unlock Hutch's cuffed hands. As he stepped towards the blond, the Major screamed at him in rage, "DON'T DO IT, YOU FOOL! YOU'LL RUIN EVERYTHING!"

"I'm not going to die for you or anybody else, Major." The young man said firmly, ignoring his commander's ranting as he walked over to Hutch and reached up to unfasten the cuffs around his bruised and swollen wrists. Hutch let his hands fall limply to his side, his shoulders screaming with relief. He grabbed the cuffs and swiftly cuffed the young officer's hands behind his back, pushing him down to a sitting position on the ground.

Once he was certain that the young officer was restrained and no longer a threat, he turned his attention to Starsky and the Major. Starsky still held the blade to the older man's throat, his hand steady and determined. The brunet's eyes were flat and vacant as he stared at his partner and best friend.

"Let him go, Stark…its over." Hutch said in a quiet voice. "Captain Dobey turned the documents implicating him in this whole mess over to his friend at the Justice Department. The Major is going to pay for his crimes."

"It'll never be over…" Starsky said flatly, still not moving the blade from his intended target. "Not as long as this piece of scum is still breathing." The Major winced as Starsky pressed the blade a little harder against his neck, drawing a thin stream of blood.

"Starsky, please…don't do this." Hutch said, pleading with his friend to listen to reason. For the first time in their long friendship, Hutch wasn't sure if he would be able to reach his friend. He held his breath, waiting anxiously for Starsky to make a choice. "Please, babe…put it down…for me."

"He has to die!" Starsky hissed through tightly clenched teeth. "He deserves it!"

"If you kill him, then he wins." Hutch pointed out. "You really will be the man he tried to make you into." Hutch took a tentative step towards his friend. He didn't want the situation to escalate any further or to agitate his highly excitable partner anymore than he already was. Starsky was teetering on the brink, ready to lose his fragile grasp on his emotions and the last shreds of his self control. "Please, Starsky…let him go. He's not going anywhere."

Hutch watched the flood of emotions that washed through those sapphire eyes. He watched as Starsky slowly lowered the hand holding the razor, but he kept his arm pressed tightly against the Major's throat. He tightened the pressure enough to make the Major gasp for air. His eyes widened in fear as he reached up to claw at Starsky's arm, trying to break the chokehold on his neck. With a growl of pure animal rage, Starsky suddenly spun the Major around and brought both hands up to push his head down. At the same time, he brought up his knee, slamming it into the Major's face and breaking his nose. With a scream of pain, the Major fell to his knees, his hands moving to cup his face. With another scream of rage, Starsky slammed his knee into the other man's face again. With a strangled cry, the Major collapsed to the floor, lying unconscious at the brunet's feet.

Hutch immediately grabbed Starsky and pulled him close, holding him tightly. He could feel the trembling of the body in his arms as Starsky buried his face against Hutch's shoulder and gave in to his emotions, sobbing heavily. Hutch whispered soothing words of comfort, rubbing his hand in gentle circles against the brunet's back, as Starsky finally faced his inner demons.


	22. Chapter 22

**TORTURED MIND**

**CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO**

Hutch sat beside Starsky's bedside watching the other man sleep. He sighed heavily. He'd been in this same position far too many times during his long partnership with Starsky. It never got any easier. Waiting to see if the brunet would live, waiting to see if he would wake up, waiting for those eyes to open and that crooked smile to greet him once more. He was getting too old for this crap. Maybe it was time to think about retiring.

The doctor said that Starsky's physical injuries were minimal; it was the emotional trauma that had him concerned about the brunet's mental health. Back at the abandoned meat packing plant, Starsky had broken down in Hutch's embrace. By the time Hutch got him calmed down enough to call for assistance, the brunet had fallen back into an eerie silence, accompanied by a vacant stare that terrified Hutch. Backup finally arrived and took away the Major, along with the two young officers under his command that Starsky had left alive.

A search of the building had uncovered more incriminating evidence that ensured that the Major would never be free again to hurt anyone the way he had hurt Starsky. Embarrassed by the Major's atrocities, the military was cooperating fully in the investigation and had agreed not to press any charges against Starsky for his part in the conspiracy to kill the men the Major had targeted as war criminals. Uncovering the plot to kill Chang and Stephanie for their part in saving Starsky's life and bringing the whole mess to Hutch's attention, steps had been immediately taken to protect them until the rest of the co-conspirators were rounded up and safely behind bars.

Starsky and Hutch were spirited away to an undisclosed location to be treated for their injuries. Reluctantly, Hutch had agreed to have Starsky evaluated by a physiatrist who immediately suggested an indefinite stay in the hospital so he could be treated for an emotional breakdown and 'deprogrammed' from his brainwashing over the past two years. Hutch knew it was the only way to get his friend back again and that was all he wanted so he agreed but only after the doctor agreed to the treatment on Hutch's terms. Those terms included allowing Hutch to stay at the hospital with Starsky to help with his care and to avoid using any drugs on the brunet. Hutch also reserved the right as Starsky's medical power of attorney to terminate treatment immediately if Hutch determined it wasn't working or was no longer necessary.

Starsky had drifted in and out of consciousness over the past three days since they arrived at the hospital but he showed no signs of responding to his surroundings when he was awake. The only thing he did respond to was the sound of Hutch's voice and the blond's gentle touch. At least Starsky hadn't retreated completely into that black void that seemed so determined to claim him. His facial expressions made it clear that he understood people when they spoke to him and was aware of what was going on around him, he just chose not to interact with his environment. Counseling sessions weren't very successful when Starsky refused to participate.

Hutch smiled when Starsky's eyes fluttered and opened, his gaze focusing on the big blond's face. Hutch was rewarded with one of those thousand watt smiles that he remembered so well. He didn't realize how much he had missed seeing that smile until now. "Hey, pal. Did you have a nice nap?"

The sound of the door opening interrupted Hutch before he could continue. A distinguished looked man in his mid-fifties stepped into the room, accompanied by Captain Dobey.

"Starsky, Hutch…" Dobey said looking fondly at the two men who were as close to him as his own son. "This is Matt Fender from the Justice Department."

"Mr. Hutchinson, Mr. Starsky, I'm glad to meet you both." He smiled as he held out his hand. Hutch grasped his hand and shook it firmly but Starsky pointedly ignored the gesture. Matt smiled faintly at the brunet's intentional slight. He wasn't offended after reading the man's file and learning what he had been through for the past two years. "I wanted to meet you both and thank you personally for providing us with the documents to put the Major and his fellow conspirators out of business. The Justice Department would also like to personally apologize to you, Mr. Starsky, for everything that the Major put you through. Steps are being taken even as we speak to clear your name and restore your identity. The department would also like to compensate you for your losses and your emotional trauma."

"Blackmail to keep him quiet?" Hutch asked with a hard edge to his voice.

"No. The department is prepared to go to any length necessary to ensure Mr. Starsky's safety and well being." He paused then got to the real point of his visit. "Including putting him in the witness protection program so he can put this whole ordeal behind him."

"NO!" Starsky said in a loud, firm voice, his eyes flashing with an inner fire that startled everyone present.

"Starsk?" Hutch said in a concerned voice, reaching out to touch his friend's arm to center him.

"I'm through hiding…through being someone else besides David Starsky." the brunet declared, his voice strong and confident. "So you can take your offer and stuff it, Mr. Ford."

The older man chuckled softly as he got his first glimpse at the stubborn side of David Starsky. "Very well, we can't force you to participate in the program but the offer of compensation still stands."

"Money can't buy back what the Major stole from me." Starsky pointed out, his mouth tightening in a thin hard line. "I lost over two years of my life, my identity, my career…everything that meant a damn to me. Can the Justice Department give that back to me?"

"No, I'm afraid we can't." The federal agent admitted. "But we can restore your identity, help you find a new apartment and get you back on the police force if that's what you want to do."

"Thanks but no thanks." Starsky said firmly. "Except for the part about restoring my identity. I never stopped being David Starsky…even when all my friends and my family thought I was dead."

"Consider it done."

"If there's nothing else, I think you need to leave. My partner needs his rest." Hutch said. Although his voice was polite, his meaning was clear. Dobey put a hand on his friend's shoulder and said,

"I'll walk out with you, Matt. I think we're finished here." He glanced at his two detectives. "I'll talk to you two later."

As the door closed behind them, Hutch looked at Starsky and grinned. "Welcome back, partner." He said "When you decide to make a come back, you don't mess around, do ya?"

"Nice to see you too, Blondie." Starsky let out a long sigh as he looked around the hospital room. A familiar sight he had hoped he would never have to see again. "Can I get out of here?" the pleading sound in Starsky's voice twisted at Hutch's heart as those expressive eyes settled on the big blond's face. "Can't I stay with you until everything settles down?"

"You know you can," Hutch told him "But the doctor wants you to stay here for a few days yet to make sure you're really okay."

"I'm fine." Starsky said in a confident voice "I just wanna get out of here. Please…"

Hutch sighed softly and nodded "I'll talk to the doctor and try to make him see it your way." He cocked his head to one side and examined the brunet thoughtfully. "Are you gonna be a good boy and talk to the nice doctor when he comes to see you?"

"Do I have to?" Starsky whined in a voice that Hutch remembered much too well. It was the same tone of voice that Starsky always used when he was trying to get Hutch to let him have him way.

"Yes, you have to." Hutch said firmly. "He wants to make sure you're not two bricks shy of a load if you catch my drift."

"Hell, I'll stand on my head if he wants me to…as long as I can get out of here." The brunet smiled at his best friend fondly and said, "I never really thanked you for everything you did to get me this far, Hutch."

"Hey, that's what friends are for. Right?"

"I'd have never made it without you, Blondie. Me and Thee…just like old times."

"Always, pal." Hutch agreed with a happy grin on his face. "Always. But, I have to admit you had me worried for a minute back there at that stand off when you told that guy to go ahead and shoot me."

"Hey, he didn't do it now did he?"

"No but he was thinking about it."

"Anybody can think about it." Starsky said in a strangely subdued voice "It takes more guts not to pull the trigger than it does to blow somebody away."

"Don't think about that right now, Starsk." Hutch said, knowing exactly where the brunet's thoughts had gone. "It's over…the nightmare is finally over."

"Is it, Hutch? Is it really?" Starsky asked with a heavy sadness in his voice. "I can't forget what I did over there…what I let myself become." He sighed deeply "I'm the one who'll have to learn how to live with it…to live with myself…to figure out what I want to do with the rest of my life."

"Hey, don't you mean what we're going to do? I ain't going no place anytime soon, buddy. You get into too much trouble without me there to watch your back."

"Guess we'll just have to take it one day at a time, huh?" Starsky said with a rueful smile.

"Guess so, only this time we're gonna do it together."

Starsky nodded, another crooked grin pulling at his lips. He had been through hell and back but he had survived. Now he would have to learn how to live with and appreciate the second chance he had been given. He was confident that he could face whatever the future held as long as he still had Hutch on his side and covering his back. It was good to finally to be home.

**THE END**


End file.
